


The Three Times Jensen Said Never Again, and the One Time He Didn't

by EasyTiga



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Barebacking, Based off a Personal Experience, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Bottom Jared, Bottom Jared Padalecki, But if I had a Stepbrother that Looked Like Either of the Js, Come Swallowing, Coming Untouched, Dom/sub Undertones, Drunk Sex, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Guilty Jensen, Heartache, Human Furniture, Jealous Jensen Ackles, M/M, Manhandling, Multiple Orgasms, Not the Stepbrother Thing, Older Jensen Ackles, Or not, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, POV Jensen, Panic Attacks, Pining Jensen Ackles, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Jensen Ackles, Power Play, Rimming, Rough Sex, Self-Hatred, Spanking, Step-Brothers, Step-Sibling Incest, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, Supportive Jared Padalecki, Sweet Jared Padalecki, The Muse is Running the Show, Time Skips, Top Jensen, Top Jensen Ackles, Toppy Jensen Ackles, You're Welcome, Young Jared Padalecki, but here we are, it wasn't supposed to be this long, it would make sense, the panic attack, voice restriction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:15:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 62,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23204557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EasyTiga/pseuds/EasyTiga
Summary: Jensen Ackles didn't know that he had been in love with his younger stepbrother from the moment that he had first smiled at him while holding onto their Mothers' hand, but he became aware of it once he started having less than savoury thoughts about the younger man that he had fully accepted as part of his family--as his brother. Ever since he saw him in the shower, naked and dripping wet when he had been barely seventeen, Jensen had been smitten. The first time Jensen had gotten a taste of what he had wanted for longer than he felt was appropriate, it had been Jared's eighteenth birthday, and he had somehow ended up blowing him on his kitchen counter, swallowing every drop that Jared had been willing to release into his mouth. He had said after that time that it would never happen again--and he had meant it, but then he hadn't counted on how he might feel if the opportunity had presented itself, yet again.
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Comments: 44
Kudos: 146





	1. The First Time

**Author's Note:**

> I know I have other things to do... I know, I know. But I thought about this and I had to get it out. It will be four parts in total, and if there is enough demand for it, I will release a sequel with Jared's side of the story--but only if there is enough demand for it. I don't want to sound like I'm fishing, but it takes a lot for any writer--of any kind--to get the words out and be happy with what they've written, and a little appreciation and cheerleading can actually go a long way. The idea of exhausting myself is more appealing when I actually know that there are people waiting and wanting the end result, if that makes sense? 
> 
> In any case, I hope that you enjoy it. 
> 
> Also, feel free to take notes... I've given and received a lot of blowjobs in my time as a sexually active man, so what I describe is based off my own experiences, so it might help those of you who haven't actually done so, yourself.

Jensen struggled to believe that the overly clumsy mess of legs that used to trip on their own shadow was now eighteen years of age. He remembered the first time he saw him, holding on to their Mothers’ hand as they stood at the front door, staring off into some unknown dimension. Jensen hadn’t known what to make of him at the time. He had been twelve then, more interested in what he was going to go as to Chris’s party, not the dazed-looking, puffy-faced creature that had not even bothered to look him in the eye when he had extended his first greeting. Back then, their Mother had been quick to draw the boy’s attention, calling out his name and gesturing to how he had been stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, waiting impatiently for some form of response. _Jared_ had then realized that he had not been in outer space at that moment in time and collected himself enough to offer a warm, heartfelt smile that Jensen would refuse—regardless of what day—made his heart skip a beat. 

He couldn't say that he had the best first impression of his little stepbrother. The age difference made it difficult for the two of them to find common ground. All he could do was allow Jared to play with his old toys—the ones that he would not have been remiss to see destroyed by such clumsy hands. Jensen had almost been in awe when Jared managed to lose not one, not two, not _three,_ but four toys down the same drain, on the same the day, in the same minute. Instead of crying and pouting for the rest of day, Jared had shrugged like it was nothing, carrying on pulling his wheelbarrow of toys along the pavement. They hadn’t been Jensen’s own toys anymore, but he shed a silent tear for their departures, reminiscing on the times that they spent together. There would have been no rhyme or reason to him snapping at Jared, so he had let it go, vowing to keep the rest of his toys out of arms reach from that moment onwards. 

After the toy debacle, Jensen had put some distance between him and Jared, which their Father had noticed instantly. He had pulled Jensen aside to have a word with him, promising that he would be rewarded with having all of his friends over if he made more of an effort to bond with his new brother. Jensen had enjoyed spending time with his friends too much to allow the golden opportunity to pass him by, since their Father rarely agreed to sleepovers in general, therefore saying no hadn’t been an option he favoured. Knowing that he would have to up his game, Jensen thought of anything that he could that they could bond over. Jared hadn’t seemed to mind whatever it was that they did. He smiled and went along with all suggestions that Jensen had made, beaming at him the whole time they played board games, or did a puzzle together, or played _the floor is lava._ He always appeared to be having the time of his life, and that was what ultimately led to Jensen’s downfall, where Jared was concerned. 

Even now when Jensen looked at Jared, he felt a warm, giddy sensation in the pit of his stomach that made him feel both sick and exhilarated. The years had been very kind to his _little_ stepbrother. He was taller than Jensen, he had those sloe eyes that drew Jensen in every time he was caught in his gaze, those mile-long legs that Jensen often wondered about having wrapped tightly around his waist or stretched out by his hands, those messy-but-still-desirable brown curls that he wanted to grip between his fingers, a thin, trimmed waist that had his mouth salivating, dimples on his cheeks that were otherworldly infectious, a laugh that could melt the heart of Ebenezer Scrooge faster than any of those Ghosts could... Not to mention a tight, pert looking butt that always seemed to push against the resistance of his pants. Jensen couldn’t put into words how much he wanted to taste and feel every inch of it. 

Everything about how he felt was wrong, to him. He had no delusions about how they weren’t blood-related, but that didn’t prevent him from growing evermore furious with himself for the desires that he had towards the young man, that he had more than come to accept as his _real_ younger brother. The main problem was that Jared went from being an adorable child, to a smoking hot man in the space of less than a year. Or maybe it had happened before that, and he had been blissfully unaware of the changes. He would have given _anything_ to go back to having the luxury of that ignorance. 

What put the nail in the metaphorical coffin had been seeing Jared in the shower. As one tends to be fully naked when one showers, it hadn’t come as a surprise to Jensen when he was met with the wet, nude form of his younger brother, who hadn’t noticed his presence at the time, too absorbed in enjoying the pressure of the water against his back. Jensen had thought to leave the moment he realized that he was intruding, when the sight behind the glass pinned him to the spot. He had seen every detail in full technicolour, only blurred marginally by the steam floating around the room, dampening his face. And then Jared had turned to the front, still not privy to Jensen’s observation, giving him a full-frontal look at his dangling manhood. 

Jensen trapped his bottom lip between his teeth and backed away from the kitchen, pressing himself against the wall as soon as he was clear to get his breathing under control. His cock was already hardening behind his sweatpants at the thought of Jared’s soapy, wet package. He was no slouch himself, but the only thing he had wanted to do back then was rip open the shower door, step in while he had been fully clothed, still, hoist Jared up against the wall high enough so that he could get his mouth around his scrumptious looking cock, and suck him off until he came hot down his throat, with Jared’s hands gripping his shoulders, begging for him to get him off. Jensen was certain that he would be able to reduce Jared to a needy mess because he knew that he had a talented mouth and it would not have been his first rodeo by any means. 

His hand peeked under his waistband before he could help himself, the lightest touch causing his head to knock back against the wall. He knew that he had to compose himself or he would end up jerking himself off right there, right then, when he was supposed to be keeping Jared entertained while their parents got to work on preparing the surprise party for him. 

Breathing in through his mouth and out through his nose felt like a herculean task, but he managed to finally calm himself down enough to tuck his cock between his waistband, throwing his shirt over it discreetly. It didn’t matter that they were at his house and he could stroke his cock wherever he damn well pleased, he was not going to risk Jared walking in on him doing it. 

He took in one more calming breath before he re-entered the kitchen, avoiding lowering his eyes to Jared’s obvious bulge. The man in question was sitting on his countertop, legs spread and body bent forward as he tapped away on his phone, grinning at whatever he saw on the screen. Jensen cleared his throat, drawing those sloe eyes over to meet his own, a fondness in them that never failed to make his stomach flip. 

“Are you okay? You look a little pale, dude,” Jared said, placing his phone to his side, “I can leave you to it if you need to rest... Or do you need me to get something for you?” 

“No, it’s okay, Jayby,” Jensen replied, smirking at the flash of resignation that flitted through Jared’s eyes at the use of his nickname, “I just didn’t get enough sleep last night,” he lied. 

“How come?” Jared asked, concern clear in his tone, “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

Jensen shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest, eyes on the fridge as he replied, “Work has been riding me. That’s all.” 

“Or something else has been _riding_ you,” Jared teased, grinning like a fool as he lowered himself from the countertop, “Have you got anything to eat? I’m starving, man.” 

Jensen ignored the very vivid image in his head of Jared riding him like the Stallion that he was, pointedly refusing to train his eyes on Jared’s scandalous ass as he bent over to gain access to the freezer, which would only serve to make his task of avoiding the fantasy in his head from growing in potency. 

“When are you _not_ starving?” Jensen dead-panned, shoving him out of the way to grab a box of microwaveable chicken nuggets. 

He spotted Jared catching himself on one of the table chairs as he cursed in indignation, “What was that for?” 

Jensen shrugged, striding over to the microwave, “You were taking too long,” he lied, again, omitting the part about the gravitational pull of his ass. 

“And here I was thinking you’d be nice to me on my birthday,” Jared griped, throwing an arm over his face theatrically, “Be still my beating heart, thwarted by those that I have come to love and cherish, left alone to perish in the fire of--” 

“What are you talking about?” Jensen questioned, rounding on him with both brows as high as they could rise on his face, “What even _is_ that? A poem?” 

“Probably,” Jared estimated, coming up to his side as he set the timer for ten minutes, “So, are you seeing anyone, _or_?” 

It was an innocent enough question. Jared knew that he was gay. The whole family knew that he was gay. Only Jared actually asked about it, though. He had a curious mind and a desire to learn new things, even if he had no interest in those things to begin with. Jensen’s not sure that broaching that subject would be the best thing for him as of right then, considering one brief description of the various men that he’d been losing himself in over the past few months would leave little room for coincidences. Still, all he asked was whether or not he was seeing someone, so he supposed it wouldn’t hurt to answer with the simplified version. 

“Nah, not at the moment,” Jensen said, feeling a weight lifted off of him. Jared never failed to release some of the tension in his body without even laying a finger on him, “With all the hours I’ve been putting in lately, I haven’t had time to try, really.” 

“Just one-night stands for you, then?” 

Jensen nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. Whether it was to stop himself from touching things he shouldn't be touching had yet to be determined. He recoiled in shock when Jared suddenly threw his arms around his neck and smushed their heads together. They both knew that he wasn’t the hugging type, so the action more than threw him for a loop at first, until Jared requested that he hug back, reminding him that it was his Birthday. 

“You’re such a softy,” Jensen said, relenting to Jared’s will as he put his own arms around his brother, pulling him tighter against him than either of them had been expecting, “How long do we have to stay like this?” 

“Until I get my fill. It’s been a while, dude. I missed you,” Jared answered, brushing his nose against the side of Jensen’s neck, “You always give the best hugs. It was worth the wait.” 

When they finally broke apart, Jensen tested to see if his cock had softened enough to discreetly fall back into place, lamenting the end to the skin to skin contact. While it was certainly true that he was not the affectionate type, he would be lying if he said he would have had an ounce of a problem holding Jared in his arms all day long, which was one of his issues. To prevent that, he abstained from allowing Jared to embrace him whenever he saw fit to. It was better for both of them if he didn’t, after all. The last thing he wanted to do was lose control around him... 

He wanted to say that he had missed Jared, too. He wanted to tell him that he had the urge to call him every night and text him every second of every day. He wanted to tell him that he was the first person he thought about when he woke up each day, and the last person he thought about before sleep took him under. He wanted to tell Jared that he never wanted to leave their parents’ place, never wanted to leave him behind. He wanted to tell him that he would have been more than happy to take him with him when he moved out. He wanted to tell Jared that his friends were constantly telling him to give it a rest about how amazing his little brother was, that they don’t need to hear about how proud he was of every slight thing he did. Most importantly, he wanted to tell Jared that he loved him, that he didn’t want to live without him, that he sometimes felt as though he couldn’t _breathe_ when he wasn’t around. 

Despite how much he _wanted_ to say those things in return, all he could muster was, “I guess that’s your present from me dealt with, then,” which earned him a playful punch to his chest, “I’m _kidding._ I obviously didn’t get you anything. What do you take me for?” 

Jared furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head to one side, “ _Wait..._ Are you for real?” 

Jensen raised his hands in a placating gesture, “You’re a real man now, Jared. It’s time you learned that not everything is handed to you in life. This will be a good lesson for you—it's educational. You like school, right?” Jensen added, holding back a smirk. Of course, he actually had gotten something for him, but he didn’t need to know that, “Besides, I didn’t get anything from you for Valentine's day, so I’d say we’re even.” 

“I don’t make you a card _one year_ and _suffer_ for it the rest of my life?” Jared groaned, looking away from him in mock fury, eyebrows knitted together. 

He probably shouldn't have taken the banter down that road, but the groundwork had been laid out for it, so he would have been foolish not to take advantage, “Well excuse _me_ for getting excited about one of your pink, glittery creations with the cheesy U and I together lines—they were the _one thing_ that I looked forward to on that day.” 

“They were meant for your friend, but I didn’t want to break your heart when you assumed they were for you,” Jared replied, dimples betraying his serious expression. 

“I guess I made an ASS out of U and ME, then,” Jensen retorted, schooling his reaction much better than the younger man, “My point still stands. You didn’t give me a card this year, so kiss your Birthday present goodbye.” 

“So there _is_ a present?” 

“Of course there’s a present,” Jensen admitted, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweats, “I’m not giving it to you right now, though,” he added, regretting his choice of words moments after with the image they conjured up. 

“Later when the lights go down, then?” Jared questioned, laughing when Jensen’s neck cracked from the speed at which it retracted, “Sorry, _sorry_. Lack of a filter on this one,” he tacked on, pointing proudly at himself. 

He had been struggling with the vision his own words created in his mind, and then Jared’s addition made it that much worse, causing his dick to stir behind its confines, again. He was sure that he could avoid needing to step out for a second time, but he was growing increasingly more uncomfortable with each second that ticked by. He knew it was a bad idea for him to initiate that type of banter between them, especially when he was having such a difficult time keeping his mind out of the proverbial gutter. 

“ _Pssh_. You’d be so lucky,” Jensen replied, waving the whole thing off as he turned to check on the time for the chicken nuggets. 

Behind him, Jared decided to start singing _Get Lucky_ completely out of tune, attempting to recreate the beats with his knuckles on the countertop, until finally loading up the song on his phone as he danced around the kitchen. Jensen could see him through the reflection of the microwave, hiding a fond smile. Jared had always been a free spirit, and he constantly looked for moments to make others laugh and smile, even if it was at his own expense. It was one of the things that sealed Jensen’s fate, where he was concerned. He was six years younger than him, and yet Jared was more often than not the one making him feel better about himself. 

Jared stopped dancing as soon as he almost got tangled up in one of the legs of the chairs—it was nice to know that not all things had changed since they were younger—changing the song to something with a bit more of a mood to it. It was a country song that he could not for the life of him remember the name of, but they both knew most of the words to it, and Jensen found himself silently singing along as he tapped his thigh, eyes still glued to the microwave door, not wishing to miss a candid moment, drawn to those deep dimples that never failed to have his own lips struggling to break out in a smile of their own. 

The ding of the microwave did nothing to slow down Jared’s light swaying of his hips as he got lost in the song, and Jensen battled with his eyes to focus on the task at hand, opening the door to allow the heat to escape. He grabbed a tea towel off the side before securing the plate of nuggets, avoiding singeing his fingers. He had done that in the past—it had _hurt._

Jensen took his own place at his table, setting the plate of chicken nuggets in the centre. He motioned to which cupboard Jared would find the smaller plates in, pleased when he returned with them intact, laying them out on their respective places. He then fell into his own seat, grinning broadly as he reached for a handful of nuggets. Jensen didn’t care that he got his paws over all of the food—they were family. 

Once Jared had filled his own plate, Jensen poured the rest onto his, reaching his arm back to open the fridge, snatching two bottles of sauce from the lowest shelf before closing it back up. He handed the ketchup over to Jared wordlessly and then went about squirting a nice dollop of barbeque sauce onto the side of his own plate, dipping the first nugget in no time at all. He tried not to watch Jared’s Adam's apple bob as he swallowed his bites of food, wondering how it would look swallowing his semen. With the way Jared was making those faces of contentment, not staring was a losing game. 

Midway through his plate, Jensen decided to pour them both glasses of water, since Jared didn’t appear to be chewing much of his food, and he was sure that choking on chicken nuggets would not have been the way that he wanted to go out—especially not on his birthday—sliding the glass over to him, which he managed to secure in his grip before it plummeted to the ground. Jensen was glad about that—at least he wasn’t completely hopeless where hand-eye coordination was concerned. 

“You know the Heimlich manoeuvre was made illegal about three minutes ago, so I can’t save you if you choke, big guy,” Jensen said, ignoring the ketchup stain on the side of Jared’s mouth. If he stared too long, he would only wish to lick it off. 

“You’d do time for me,” Jared replied like it was obvious. He was right, but Jensen wasn’t going to tell him that, “I think it’s more likely that _you’ll_ be the one to _choke_ on something.” 

“Hey, what me and Mr Grey get up to is our business alone, wiseass,” Jensen countered, shoving down the visual of him choking on Jared’s erect cock. He would be lying if he said that would be the worst way to go. 

Jared made a face, “Don’t talk about _him_. Mom was drunk last week and made me watch it with her,” he informed him, nose crinkling, “That’s the last time I watch anything with her that includes nude men.” 

“So anyone else is on the table, then?” Jensen teased, laughing as Jared’s neck reddened slightly, “Gotta think before you speak, Jayby.” 

“ _Magic Mike_ was bad enough,” Jared added, popping another nugget in his mouth, “Even Dad was envious of those dudes.” 

Jensen agreed with a small, slow nod, “Yeah, I can’t say I’d complain if I went to one of their shows. That Matt Bomer? Mmph. I would do him any day.” 

“You might actually be in with a shot.” 

“Nah. He’s married. Which is a shame. That ass? Are you _kidding_ me...” 

Something distant took over Jared’s eyes for a moment before he recovered, shrugging his shoulders, “Mine’s better. I didn’t need to keep the receipt,” he said, wiggling his butt on the seat as he bit into his next nugget. 

Nothing could have been truer. If Jensen had it his way, there would be a _no clothes_ policy in his house. Only for Jared, though. He wouldn’t want to risk having to see any of the rest of his family in the nude. That would be the stuff of nightmares. 

“Really? I would have asked for a full refund,” Jensen jested, holding in his mirth at Jared’s mock offended face, “They still keep digital ones if you ever wanna make the trip.” 

“Asshole. You’re so mean to me,” Jared bemoaned melodramatically, pretending to catch a tear on his finger, “This is why we can’t have nice things.” 

“Are you saying you want a divorce?” 

Jared rolled his eyes, “Always so quick to look for a way out. That’s _so_ like you.” 

“When you know, you know. No point beating around the bush,” Jensen said with a shrug of his own, relaxing into their common _old-married-couple_ banter. 

“Maisey Rose said that she could bounce a coin off my ass. Just saying,” Jared insisted, looking like he grew another head. 

At the mention of _anyone else_ involved enough with Jared to have made a general assessment of his perky bottom, Jensen couldn’t help but seethe inwardly, keeping his expression completely cool on the outside. 

“Is that your indirect way of telling me that you’ve been getting some action on the side? I thought I meant more to you than that.” 

Jared went still, then, head turned away from him, shoulders tense, “Well, actually... No. I, uh, y’know...” 

Jensen frowned and tapped his shin with his foot under the table, wanting him to elaborate. He didn’t _know_ what Jared was talking about. 

Without looking at him, Jared answered, “I’m still a, uh, virgin, Jen.” 

Knowing no one had yet to defile him had Jensen happy dancing in his subconscious, but as his big brother, it was up to him to be _supportive_ in his own way when it came to a delicate matter like that. 

“It’s probably the height thing. They couldn’t hide their disappointment, obviously. They wanted you to be _at least_ ten inches taller,” Jensen said, chewing the inside of his cheek at his own mention of _ten inches_ , “We’ll get you on one of those stretcher things. And maybe do something with your hair.” 

Jared rounded on him, face aghast, “What’s _wrong_ with my hair?” 

“What’s right with it?” Jensen lied, clenching his fist in his lap, “They’re expecting Aladdin, when you’re giving them Jasmine.” 

“Whatever. I’d trade places with Jasmine any day of the week,” Jared admitted, scoffing at Jensen’s last comment, “You don’t really hate my hair, do you?” he asked, and the look of hurt in his eyes almost had Jensen bringing his food back up. 

“It’s okay, I guess,” he replied conversationally, scratching a non-existent itch on his other arm, using the opportunity to stare at it. 

“I mean... I have been, y’know, trying...” Jared confessed, voice distant, “Just haven’t had any takers.” 

Jensen found what Jared said impossible to believe. His brother was _stunning._ He was the type of guy that every Tom, Dick, Harry, Martha, Betty, Casandra would kill to have as part of their family. Jensen can’t recall a single person that met Jared that didn’t fall ass over tit for him within the first moment of being in his magnetic presence. All of Jensen’s friends _loved_ Jared—he was the only sibling out of their group of friends that was encouraged to spend time with them. Jensen had been thrilled when they were younger, dragging Jared along with him and his friends wherever they would go that day, and he willingly followed without a complaint, making the gang laugh until their stomachs hurt or being the first to say _dare_ when they played _spin the bottle_. Anyone would be hard-pressed to convince him that they didn’t at least feel a _spark_ when they were in the presence of Jared, and he would take that to the bank. 

“So what _have you_ done, exactly?” He wasn’t sure why he was asking, but he felt like he needed to know, “Without going into graphic detail.” 

“I’ve kissed a couple of people. And I’ve done some over the clothes stuff, but that’s it... I nearly got my dick sucked one time. They chickened out,” he answered, looking sheepish, face sweating a little. 

Opting to ignore the ambiguous choice of words, Jensen reached for anything to respond to that with. He couldn’t think of any witty remarks or a way to console Jared, so he selected an _idiotic_ reply that would shift the dynamic of their relationship on its axis, instead, " _Their loss_. I would have sucked your dick.” 

He had been _expecting_ Jared to laugh and lightly push him, and then they would return to eating the rest of their chicken nuggets. He had _expected_ there to be no form of a _reply_ to what he had said, both of them skimming over the words because it wouldn’t be the first time that their banter took on several different tones. He had expectedJared to change the topic of conversation to something else once he was done burning the image from his head—he had not _expected_ what happened next. 

“Really? You _would_ have?” Jared questioned curiously, attention focused solely on Jensen. 

Jensen hoped that Jared didn’t hear the audible swallow that his inquiry produced, “Uhm... _What?_ ” 

Jared turned in his seat, leaning in somewhat, “You would have sucked my dick?” 

“ _Why_ are you asking me that?” He countered, scratching the lobe of his ear, eyes on the table. 

“Well... I mean...,” Jared paused, wetting his lips, “I guess I just wanna know how it feels, y’know? And, I... I get all nervous around girls. But I’m never nervous around you.” 

“ _Dude_ , I’m your brother... Are you _drunk?”_

“No... I’m not drunk,” Jared answered, sucking his lips into his mouth, “It’s fine. Forget I said anything.” 

Jensen could have said nothing at that moment. He could have let it all slide and moved on with their day. He could have filed it away in the furthest recesses of his mind. He could have tamped down his burning desire to do just what Jared was indirectly asking of him. He could have told him that it was wrong... and it was never going to happen... and he didn’t see him like that... and it was inappropriate... He didn’t, though. 

“Do you _really_ wanna know how it feels?” Jensen asked, searching for the confirmation in Jared’s eyes. He knew it was selfish of him to latch onto that golden opportunity, but he wasn’t sure he would have been able to forgive himself if he denied himself the chance to get what he wanted. 

Jared’s hands laced together in his lap, knees bouncing as he replied, “You did say you didn’t get me a birthday present...” 

“I _did_ get you a present, though,” Jensen corrected, _f_ _ascinated_ by one of his few fridge magnets. 

“Then this can be the starter before the main course, I guess,” Jared propositioned, having a solo thumb war with himself. 

He hadn’t meant to be so cocky as he came back with, “ _This_ would be the main course, Jared,” wondering if the redness that spread across Jared’s neck had anything to do with the words he said, “This isn’t exactly amateur hour,” he added, a touch more confident. 

“Not the first train to enter the tunnel, then?” 

Jensen laughed nervously, “It’s gotten a lot of use over the years. No refunds, so far.” 

A silence fell between them. He couldn’t speak for Jared at that moment, but he knew that _he_ was having doubts about taking it there. What if it was something that the two of them could never come back from? He would never want to do anything that could risk the two of them having to go their own separate ways. He would deal with his stupid lust for his _brother_ for as many years as it took before he finally succeeded in getting through it, before he ever entertained the idea of putting what they had then in jeopardy. Jensen loved Jared more than any other human being on the planet, and it was not favourable for him to poison his relationship. 

“This is a onetime only thing, okay, Jayby?” he heard himself say with conviction, steeling his own resolve. He had no doubt that it would be that from the start, but he felt that he had to reassure himself that by setting a limit to it, it lowered the chances of breaking the silent pact. 

Jared palmed the back of his neck, thumb absently rubbing over a pulse point, “Of course. Like I said, man... I trust you more than anyone to do this, and I-I really wanna know how it can feel, y’know?” 

Before Jensen could stop himself, he had his palms flat on Jared’s thighs, turning him in his chair so that he was forced to face him head-on, and he leaned in just enough to breathe wistfully over his lips, jaw tight as he spoke, “Then I guess I better make it good for you,” Jensen bit down on his bottom lip as he smoothed his hands along Jared’s shorts, eyes glimpsing the revealed skin, tempting him with each manipulation of the polyester/cotton combo as it peeled back, the fibres tickling the grooves of his palms. 

In one, smooth tug, Jensen whipped Jared’s shorts underneath his bottom, pulling them down to stretch between his knees. He marvelled at the even more impressive tent forming in Jared’s pale-blue briefs, leaving _nothing_ to the imagination. He felt himself salivating, drool peeking out of the corner of his mouth. He sucked it back in quietly, reaching to take back control of his mind and impulses, wanting to drag it out as long he possibly could so that he could savour every moment that he had. 

“Is this the part where you get down on your knees for me, _Jenny_?” Jared said, voice wrecked already and lacking the confidence he perhaps planned on executing at that moment. 

Jensen chuckled darkly, stood over him, eyes misting over, “Oh, I don’t get on my knees for anyone, dude,” he informed him with finality, not waiting to let that sink in before he was securing his hands underneath Jared’s thighs and forcing him up and off the seat. Jared automatically latched on for support, digging his knees into Jensen’s side, hands flat on his shoulder as he was _carried_ over to the kitchen counter, where he was deposited, legs spread wide to accommodate Jensen standing between them. 

“Woah... You haven’t lifted me since that time I sprained my ankle,” Jared exhaled breathlessly, eyes shut as he leaned back on his palms, completely open to Jensen’s administrations, “I forgot how much I liked that.” 

Jensen buried the groan of _want_ that bubbled in him at the thought of holding Jared up as he fucked into him—that would be the best workout he would ever have in his life, and the pain in his arms the next day would be more than worth it in his opinion. 

“So what happens now?” Jared asked, tilting his head to the side. 

“I have _three rules_ when it comes to this.” 

“What are they?” 

Jared canted his hips, eyes playful as he brought one hand over to touch himself through his briefs. 

Jensen grabbed his wrist to stop him from reaching his goal, intentions clear in his eyes, “You don’t get to touch yourself. You don’t get to fuck my throat. And you are not allowed to push my head down. You do either of those things, this _stops_.” 

For a moment, he thought Jared would come back with some kind of protest, but he didn’t. He relaxed his arm, smiling when Jensen moved it back to where it had been moments before, “You call the shots, man. Even if it is _my_ birthday,” Jared replied with a saucy wink and a shake of his head, “I guess I’ll make the rules when it’s my turn,” he added with a slightly awkward laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners. 

Even though it _killed_ him to refuse that, he did it anyway, “You’re not returning the favor. I would _never_ expect you to do that,” Jensen insisted, reclaiming his spot on Jared’s thighs, enjoying the warmth of the flesh underneath his palms, “I’ll be just fine. Understand?” 

Jared nodded his head, though he appeared to be bothered that he was going to be the only one getting something out of it. Little did he know, that by being able to experience Jared’s hot, thick flesh in his mouth, Jensen was more than getting something out of the exchange. 

With the object of his desire sat in front of him, spread out and ripe for the taking, Jensen’s dick began calling the shots. He let out a deep sound as a sudden adrenaline rush barrelled through him, his practised hands yanking Jared’s underwear over his rear just as easily as he had done with his shorts, dipping to tug both articles off his body in seconds flat. Once Jared’s bottom half was completely naked and his thick, slab of meat smacked against his developing abdomen, Jensen almost keened on the spot, heat licking at every part of his body that it could get to, making him feel parched and in desperate need of water. 

He stepped back from between Jared’s spread legs almost apologetically, reaching for his abandoned glass of water, which he drained in one, long pull, narrowly avoiding just throwing it at the wall and dealing with the mess later. Instead, he placed it back down on the table and turned back to his waiting brother, who had one eyebrow raised as he watched the events unfold, cock still _pulsing_ against his taut flesh. 

Jensen resumed his place and lowered his head, his fingers gripping the edges of the countertop with enough force to feel it against his bones. His eyes were glued to the leaking slit of Jared’s cock, one thick pearl beading out against the pink, spongy head that he couldn’t _wait_ to wrap his lips around. And he was going to do _just_ that once he got his body under control. 

“Jensen, are you okay? We can stop if you--” 

“ _No._ I’m fine. Don’t worry,” Jensen snapped, not meeting Jared's eyes as he bent his head forward, lowering his form as much as he needed to in order to press his lips against the base of Jared’s cock. He licked his lips, tongue wet and needy as he ran the tip all the way to the twitching head, lapping up the glob of pre-come that had started to make its descent down from the slit. 

Jared’s hips attempted to buck, but _his_ hands were faster, locking them in place, firmly. He said nothing as he pitched forward, tucking his top lip underneath the solid flesh. He leant his head back then, lifting Jared’s cock with the support of his lips until it was stood proud and Jensen could take the whole head into his mouth, performing small up and down motions, just teasing the sensitive skin, showing his adoration with nothing more than his actions. 

“Nggh...,” Jared moaned softly, the _need_ in it spurring Jensen on to take more into his mouth, using his grip on Jared’s hips to steady himself. His lips and tongue continued to moisten as they felt each inch, not stopping until dark brown curls brushed against the sides of his nostrils. He took the opportunity to breathe in the genuine scent, enjoying the natural musk as he lowered his body a tad more, making the angle easier on his throat as he swallowed around the heated, wet flesh, “Ohh ... Shit. _Shit_. Fuck,” Jared panted out, voice completely shot and Jensen was loving every second of it as he began pulling back up, agonizingly slowly. He wasn’t sure who that annoyed more—him or Jared. 

Jensen hummed around the thick mass in his mouth, savouring the pure, rich flavour of Jared. He kept his eyes closed, knowing that if he looked up and saw the _want_ and _desire_ in Jared’s eyes, he would not have been able to help himself from taking it that _little bit_ further, fingers already itching to start exploring the space hidden between Jared’s glutes. 

Jared tried again to push his hips up, but Jensen stilled them with more force than he probably needed to without pausing in his deep, long, tight drags to Jared’s cock, his lips already aching from the pressure at which he squeezed them in, wanting to feel every divot, every vein—every modicum of skin that he could from top to bottom. He was already wishing that he could stay in that moment forever, not caring how sore his throat may end up, or how tired his tongue may become, or how puffy his lips may have become—he would gladly spend as long as he could making Jared feel good. 

“Jensen-- _wow..._ This—this is _so_ good...” Jared whined, fingers twitching at his side. Jensen could tell immediately that he wanted to put his hands on his head, but that’s not how this worked, so he freed his hips and tucked his hands under Jared’s bum, lifting him off the countertop, pulling him in as deep as he would go, ignoring the burn in his throat—ignoring the choking sounds breaking free through the side of his mouth. He swallowed as hard as he could once, twice, three times, breathing in through his nose what little air he could manage, “Gahhh. Oh my _God,_ Jen!” 

When Jared cried out his nickname, Jensen felt heat all over him, his cock throbbing behind its confines, begging for him to let it breathe, but he refused. This was _not_ about him. His fingers spread Jared’s glutes of their own accord. He denied their plea to drag themselves across the warm, fleshy, creamy expanse, aiming for the untouched, unspoiled barrier they so desperately wanted to stroke over— _this was not about him._

Jensen lowered Jared back to the countertop then, not moving his hands away, instead gripping them harder as he dipped and raised his head erratically, knowing that he would have to end this soon, or he might _actually explode._

“Guuhh... Fuck—Jensen, _please_ \--” Jared begged softly, and Jensen dared to look up at him when he heard his words cut off abruptly, a groan travelling right through Jared’s dick when he witnessed his fisted hand trapped between his teeth, the skin of his knuckles reddening. Jared’s eyes had slid shut, drowsy and pliant-–youthful and beautiful. It was the most erotic sight— _up until that moment—_ that Jensen had ever seen in his life. 

He could hardly hear the wet, slick sound that he was making as he bobbed and dipped with more vigour than he’d ever mustered for anyone, refusing to move his hands away from their perch, eyes still locked on Jared’s blissed-out expression as he felt the tell-tale signs of an orgasm about to rip through his _brother—_ Jared’s cock began pulsing, the head expanding, pushing against the back of Jensen’s throat, flesh hot and taut, widening his lips, the thickness causing his jaw to ache. 

Jared moved his fist away, sudden panic in his eyes, “Wait--I shouldn’t--mmph--” 

Jensen covered Jared’s objections with his slightly damp hand, curling his arm underneath Jared’s rear until his fingers brushed against the jut of his hip, forcing his lips to slide all the way down to the base for one final, long swallow, _finally_ triggering Jared’s _much-needed_ release, hot, thick spurts of come splashing against the back of his throat, sliding down underneath his tongue, rising in volume until it submerged his teeth in its salty fluid. Jensen waited through the eager, throbbing pulses, his own cock beating like it had run a marathon through his sweats, cheeks burning with the desire to have a break—but they weren’t getting one. Not until Jared had finished. 

Jared grunted and groaned against his hand, the wetness apparent against the flesh of his palm. He took it all in stride, not letting up until finally, Jared’s cock began deflating—that's when he swallowed, _hard,_ making sure he drank down every sample of Jared’s essence that he could in that one, long, wet, audible gulp, quickly pulling back enough to lock the head between his lips, the softening flesh yielding under the pressure, dragged between his lips until he could rescue every wayward drop from the heated skin, pleased when it slipped free from his mouth, marred only by potent saliva. 

Jensen took a few steps back then, resting his hands against the table, eking out his jaw to prevent it from locking. He had to get his breathing under control and steady the beating of his heart, eyes squeezing shut as he battled with his thoughts, knowing that it would not have been safe for him to have looked at Jared in his debauched state. 

He hadn’t been paying attention until Jared’s hand was grabbing him through his sweats, his other hand on his shoulder, breath hot and ragged, “Are you sure you don’t want me to return the favor, Jen? I can do it. You were so amazing—I'd feel awful if I--” 

“ _Jared._ No. _Back off,”_ he ordered sternly, a shot of guilt flashing through his eyes as Jared did as he was told, bending down to pick up his discarded shorts and underwear. Jensen still wasn’t able to look at him, scared that he would bend him over the counter at the first chance, “I’m sorry... Just, give me the room, would ya’?” 

Jensen watched Jared’s large feet pad across his vision, leaving him to his own devices. His cock was painfully hard, the slightest brush of the material of his sweats making his hips stutter, but he denied himself the satisfaction, dropping his sweats enough to free his cock. He grabbed a flannel from the drawer and flicked on the tap, drenching it in cold water. Not caring that it would be a mess for him to clean up later, he wrung it out over his cock, the fresh onslaught doing its level best to cool him down, heart-throbbing behind his rib cage, teeth grinding together as he worked to bring himself back down. It wouldn’t have been right for him to get _himself_ off. That’s not what that was about. 

After a few moments of careful breathing, cold water causing the blood to retreat from his dick and several thoughts of unsavoury situations, Jensen managed to bring himself back to reality, the weight of what he had just done washing over him, sobering him completely. He had just given his _little brother_ a blowjob in his kitchen... Jared had released _everything_ into his mouth, and he had swallowed every drop like a hungry, sex-crazed, slutty whore... 

The flannel splatted against the floor, water firing off in all directions. Jensen ignored it, bracing his hands against the countertop, head lowered, shoulders sagging as he bit the inside of his cheek, trying desperately to steel his resolve. He cupped some water in his hands and splashed it over his face, running his hands through his hair. He was glad that he couldn’t see himself—he may have vomited at the sight of it. 

His eyes fell closed and he sucked his lips into his mouth, rubbing them together as he held onto his dignity. He would not cry. He did that for Jared—Jared had _asked_ him to do it... He hadn’t forced him to do anything that he had not been open to—it was a birthday gift, from him, to Jared. Guilt continued to eat at him, though, his shoulders shaking with the force he held onto the edge, self-disgust building inside him. 

He never should have encouraged it— _taken advantage._ He was appalled with his behaviour. As the true adult in the situation, he should have known better, but he had not been able to help himself from seizing the opportunity laid out before him. 

“Jen, are you okay in there?” he heard Jared say from outside the room. His brother was still giving him the space that he needed to collect himself. Jensen sure as hell needed it, and appreciated Jared even more for his patience, “Isn’t it time you proved that your _real_ gift isn’t as good as your _other_ gift, man?” 

Even though he _knew_ that Jared was trying to poke fun at the situation to find a way to normalise it, Jensen still felt himself breaking with each word that left his mouth, and it took everything in him to plaster a smile on his face, tilt his head back and reply with, “Spoiled little brat suddenly thinks he deserves the world? You’re lucky it’s not a bag full of stored farts, wiseass.” 

“That wouldn't be so bad if your farts were as pretty as your face, douchebag,” Jared replied easily, and Jensen could hear the smile in his voice—it made his heart _ache_. 

He made his way out of his kitchen then, sealing up his guilt and self-hatred and stowing it away as far as he could, “Keep that up and I’ll sit on you like I did that time you tore my Jersey.” 

Jared baulked at that, backing away, “We don’t have to go that far, and I told you I never meant for that to happen--” 

“Oh, _really._ Could have fooled me,” Jensen accused, lowering into a tackle position. He wasn’t actually going to do it, but he loved how fidgety Jared got when he did. 

“It got caught on a hook while I was wearing it, I swear,” Jared said, raising his hands in surrender, eyes dancing with humour despite the threat, “It was comfortable, dude.” 

A rush of jealousy ran through him as he thought about all those nameless faces that had been able to actually witness Jared in _his_ Jersey. He would have liked to have seen that for himself, more than even he could comprehend. 

“You never did get a replacement for me,” Jensen replied nonchalantly, like he couldn’t have cared less, pitching forward enough to make Jared retreat back again. 

Jared’s eyes dropped to his crotch, and Jensen felt himself stir, standing to his full height and backing away, “Well, ahem, anyway... You can have your real present later--” 

“I doubt I’ll like it much better than the awesome head,” Jared admitted, cheeks flaming. Jensen bit back a groan at the vision. 

Jensen kept his tone clear and precise as he replied, “Listen, _Jared._ That was a one-time thing, okay? I’m never doing that to you again. Not _ever._ And _t_ _his_ is the last that we will ever speak of it, are we _clear?”_

A lot of things flickered through Jared’s expressive eyes then, none of which Jensen could truly discern, too busy wrestling with himself to regain his control back once again. Eventually, he smiled a small, lost smile, shrugged his shoulders and then beamed at him, “ _Later_ , you say? Why, what’s happening _later_?” 

It was at that moment that Jensen realised he may have just _potentially_ spoilt the surprise that they had spent _weeks_ putting together for his _brother,_ and he narrowly avoided punching himself in the gut for it. 

That was the first time he said _never again._


	2. The Second Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three years since the first time. Jensen had to find ways to better cope with his growing need. He meets Jared at a family event and they catch up. Eventually, they go back to Jared's place and things happen. 
> 
> Is that vague enough?

" _Don't move_ ," Jensen said with conviction, circling the man kneeling in front of him. He relished the way his order was adhered to with zero hesitation, every muscle still under his purview. He would forgive the slight twitch to the man's cock only once, considering it wasn't the first time that a submissive at the club was affected purely by the finality to his tone of voice that left no room for disobedience. He continued to do laps around him, slowly, keeping his eye on the perspiration beading on the man's forehead. His longish hair was starting to stick to the back of his neck, his body drenched in sweat. It had been an intense session—one that Jensen needed if he was going to get through the events of that night. Seeing Jared again after several months of little to no contact, putting on appearances in front of his family, slapping on a smile when all he wanted to do was feel nothing. _That_ , the control that he had over someone else's actions brought him that one step closer to feeling as though he had any amount of power over his impulses.

Before Jared had gone and asked him so nicely for a blowjob, BDSM had been a new concept to him. As in, he had entered the club, took one look at what was going on, felt extremely aroused, equal parts guilty for having the desire to want to treat another human being that way, and then walked back out intending to put it all behind him. Then, Jared's eighteenth birthday happened, and Jensen had never felt more powerless in his entire lifetime. That was when the idea had struck him as he strolled past the club one day, eyes drawn to it as if a neon sign had been flashing in his mind telling him that it could be the answer to his problem. And it had been. Once he understood what it meant to be a Dominant/Master, to have that level of control over someone, a whole new world had opened for him.

He had started with one session--elementary stuff. All he had ordered the man to do was keep his mouth shut unless he asked him a question, keep his hands behind his back at all times, locked at the wrists, and face forward—away from him. Jensen had explicitly requested a tall, lithe man with shoulder-length hair that he could curl his fingers around. The rush that went through him when the man had adhered to his every word without a complaint or a flippant response had had him collapsing to his knees when he had returned home at the end of the session, shaking with the desire to feel that kind of power a second time.

For his second session, Jensen had incorporated the use of toys, requesting the same submissive that he had on his first go out. Fortunately, he had willingly jumped at the chance to be under Jensen's scrutiny again, adopting the same position from their first session together. Jensen had felt giddy at that point, pleased that he had made enough of an impression that the man had remembered his preferences. Jensen had asked him how he felt about large object-insertion, and the man had told him that he would be willing to take as much as Jensen had been ready to give him. When Jensen had finished stuffing the man's hole with varying degrees of buttplugs, there was a wide gap, the man's cock had been throbbing with the need to release, and Jensen had just enough mind left to permit him to come.

Jensen never fucked any of the submissives under his charge. He was sure that they wanted him to. He saw the way they pushed their asses back as far as they could go to attempt to ingratiate themselves to him. A part of him usually wanted to take them up on what they were offering so listlessly, but being in control wasn't about sex for him. Being in control was a way of ignoring the lack that he had over his own. Sex was a way for him to lose even more of that control, so he wasn't ready to commit to that. He enjoyed taking them to higher places, enough.

He wondered if he would have ever found his way there had he not had a taste of Jared. But then he also pondered what it would be like to have Jared at his mercy in that way. Even as he looked down on his submissive for his afternoon session, he pictured Jared in much the same position, giving himself over to him without question. The need that rose in him at the thought consistently had him on the edge of breaking character, but he somehow managed to—more often than not—snap himself back in, biting out an order for the submissive to latch onto.

Jensen crouched behind the man, reaching his hand out to tug at the end of the plug caught on his rim. He pushed it as hard against the opening as it would go, drinking in the bitten off barely audible gasp that it dragged out, "When I give the order, you come. If you don't do it on the first try, you leave here with nothing. Flex your hole if you understand," Jensen said sternly, eyes sparkling with glee as the man's entrance squeezed around the buttplug, a bead of sweat following a pattern down the length of his back, ducking into the seam. He decided that he didn't want to prolong the submissive's agony any longer than was necessary, especially since he had prep work to do before he was ready for that night's events. So he pressed one finger against the man's perineum while his thumb crooked, nudging the plug, the slight vibration against his skin, not an unwelcome addition as he demanded, voice resolute, " _Come_."

Wordlessly, the man obediently followed his command, hips jerking, hole clenching as he shot his load onto the floor in front of him. Jensen stood up, then, circling back around until he was facing the man, glad to see that he hadn't yet raised his head, still waiting for permission to rise. Jensen allowed him to stand, offering one hand to the side of the man's face, feeling the heated flesh under his touch. The man's head leant in as much as was humanly possible, eyes soft and glazed over. He stroked his thumb along his cheekbone and told him he was a good submissive, that he would be interested in controlling him once more. Jensen saw the arousal in the man's eyes, then, snapping his fingers in front of his face to bring him back down to reality.

"Thank you, Sir," the man said, and he sounded like he meant it, dipping his head slightly before walking bare-ass naked out of the room, the plug still firmly lodged in his ass. Jensen wasn't going to judge. He may end up needing it for later, for all he knew.

Jensen shrugged his jacket back on and made for the exit to the room, a nice, cold shower in mind. On his way out, he made small talk with some of the locals that he had come to know over the past three years. He was glad that most of them had nametags or he would have been at a loss for what to call them, making sure to use all of their names as he slapped on a fake smile, charming the pants off of all of them until he was outside, pulling his jacket tighter around himself, hands finding purchase in his pockets.

The idea of the night's events soured his good mood, the reminder hitting him all at once, suddenly angry that he couldn't just call and cancel. He knew that he couldn't do that to his family—to Jared. Not when his brother had texted him earlier that day telling him that he couldn't wait to see him, with every emoji that looked enough like excitement added on to the end of the message, and enough kisses to require more than one text bubble. Jensen had just about forgiven himself for the stupid grin that broke out on his face once he finished counting all of them. If only he could turn them into real kisses.

That had been what brought him to the club, his feet moving without really knowing at first where they had been planning to go. He had felt as though he needed to vent his frustrations in the only way that he knew how and rushed to select a willing submissive from the vast list that waited for him at the front desk. He had been fortunate that he had gathered a favourable reputation, affording him the chance to have his pick of the litter virtually.

Jensen hadn't seen Jared much since the blowjob. It was his fault. He couldn't help but distance himself from him with every opportunity that he got. Jared had gotten accepted to a college much further away from his place and their family home—Jensen had encouraged him to take off, explore the world some more, get far enough away that nobody knew his name. His heart had told him to insist that Jared stay closer to home, but he managed to mentally beat it into submission, understanding that the further Jared moved away from him, the safer he would end up being.

Unfortunately, Jared had none of it. He came up with every excuse under the sun that he could think of at the time to convince Jensen that it would have been better for him to be close to home. Jensen wasn't able to decide for him, so he had to respect it. It just also meant that he suddenly became overly busy for the foreseeable future. He dodged Jared's invites to college parties, to hang out with him at the coffee shop during his breaks between classes, to come paintballing with him and his friends--even take a stupid dance class with him. Jensen had reasons not to do any of those things ready to fire off at a moment's notice, and he never used the same one twice.

And that worked for a long time. Jensen told himself that he had to attend birthday's and family events, but that was it. If Jared were hurt, however, Jensen would drop everything and swim across the ocean to get to him. Luckily, that was never the case.

If Jared noticed the increased effort to avoid him, he never said anything. He always had a smile for the times they got to see each other, making Jensen's heart attempt to climb up his throat and spill out onto the floor. He always asked Jensen how he was doing, if he had anyone special in his life or if he needed help with anything. He never failed to greet him with a hug and send him off with one as well—if Jensen used those moments to breathe Jared in deep through his nose and commit the smell to memory, well that was between him and whatever deity was the right one.

Some nights he found his mind drifting back to that time where he had the taste of Jared on the back of his tongue. He hadn't given head in a long time. It wasn't the same for him anymore. He didn't want to feel anyone else's hot, thick, throbbing shaft bumping against the back of his throat, stretching his lips and jaw enough to ache. In essence, only the thought of having Jared in his mouth again gave him any sense of fulfilment when he envisioned performing oral. He still jerked a few cocks, but he mostly stuck to shoving nameless dudes faces into the pillow as he pulled their hair enough to lift the skin it was attached to, thrusting into them with power and precision. 

As far as he was aware, they had no complaints.

Nevertheless, even when he felt the tight, restrictive heat of a willing body wrapped around his member--warm skin under one palm and sweaty tendrils slick between the other--there was a feeling of perpetual loneliness that he couldn't shake regardless of how hard he pounded against pliant, meaty flesh. He realized that that was because they weren't the one person that he desired to be with, in that way, for as many times as that one person would be willing to have him. Not that it stopped him from getting his jollies from time to time—just not as often as his downstairs brain wished of him.

After the events of the sex, he always felt overwhelmingly guilty, as if he was cheating on Jared, even if they had nothing established between them. He knew that if they were in some pseudo incestuous relationship, the thought of infidelity would never have the chance to cross his mind on his worst day, and he would expect the same of Jared, who he imagined would be equally as against the thought as he would be.

What was there to feel guilty about, though? He wasn't committed to Jared—perhaps not by title or mutual understanding--, but at the same time, he believed in his soul that Jared was the other half to his heart, wrapped up in one grand, funny, glorious, sunny personality that warmed his body at the mere mention of him. So, even if they were not official, his mind decided for him that his sins of the flesh were a betrayal to the one person that he truly loved, and wasn't that just pathetic? No, he didn't tell Jared about his one-night stands or week-long flings or cruises, but he wouldn't care if he did anyway—not in the way that would count. Not in the way that Jensen wanted him to.

He was pulled from his thoughts when he had to focus on fishing his keys out of his back pocket, quickly letting himself into his house. He still needed to have a shower and wash away the sweat and grime of that day. Before he went to the club, he had also put in a session at the gym, deciding that by taking a can of spray with him, he wouldn't be offending anyone with his stink. As far as he was able to deduce, no one had seemed to have a problem with it. Jensen simply didn't want to have to shower twice, when he could have killed two birds with one stone.

As he peeled out of his clothing and made his way to his shower room, Jensen thought about the last time he had seen Jared, instantly kicking himself for not having the strength to push the thought down for a couple of hours while he tended to his own needs first. He somehow managed to reason with himself that looking back on their last encounter might assist him getting through that night, considering there may have been a critical bit of information that he may or not have retained at the time.

Jensen mulled over that chance encounter, where Jared had happened to be shopping for produce at _his_ local store. It had taken him far away from his place, so Jensen had had to question in his head why on Earth his brother would be picking up supplies there, of all places. The answer had come in the form a cute, dimpled blush, with Jared revealing that he had been seeing someone near where Jensen lived. It had taken a lot of effort for Jensen to form words after that point onwards, piling on the good-natured ribbing that may have come off sounding harsher than he had intended it to while avoiding all links back to whoever Jared was buying food for. He had not wanted to know about it. _At all_. Not even _slightly_.

One thing that had been important to note was that Jared had been in the middle of some off time from his job, and he had been angling for a weekend stay with Jensen. He had wanted to say yes on an atomic level. Still, he refused airily, convincing him that it would be best for him to spend it on the budding relationship he had going with whoever the fuck they were—saying it had made him feel physically ill. He had almost been sick when he returned home, but it had been for the best.

As much as he tried to deny it, even then, he couldn't shake the gut-punching look of pure disappointment that had lingered briefly in Jared's eyes, before an understanding smile had masked it, full lips agreeing with Jensen's idea to see if there would be anything between him and the person he had been currently dating. Jensen had wanted to scream, to punch himself out, to run until his lungs hurt, to pull Jared into a bone-crushing hug and demand that he understood how much he never wanted his words to hurt him. He had done none of those things, of course. He had nodded, accepted Jared's goodbye hug and got on with his shopping, forcing back the tears of rage and jealousy stinging at his eyes, laced with self-disgust for causing that look.

Crisp, steady droplets pelted against his warm flesh and hair, chasing one another down the expanse of his body. He sighed at the familiar embrace, tilting his head back to permit the flow to pass over his face, causing the side of his nose to itch. Jensen didn't always have cold showers, but he needed to have his mind focused when he left his house later that night. He wasn't willing to risk making any mistakes, and being off-kilter would do nothing but heighten the possibility.

He cleaned and washed in silence, ignoring the urge to visualise how it would feel to rub soap and water onto Jared's wet, taut flesh. He shook his head raggedly, slamming his hands on the wall and squaring his shoulders. A harsh breath pushed out of him, anger at himself snapping through him as he shut the shower off, leaning hard against the wall afterwards as he struggled to normalise his breathing.

Jensen couldn't believe that it was three years ago that he had Jared right where he wanted him, all blissed out and needy for _his_ mouth. The memory of Jared's knuckles caught between _his_ teeth as he thought not to let the whole world in on what they had been doing haunted Jensen in his dreams, and never failed to make his cock give a valiant twitch, no matter how many times he had given it release. He could feel himself swelling as he thought about it, hands clenching into fists as he knocked them against the wall, forcing himself to imagine Chris in a bikini.

Thankfully—since he was already the poster child for fucked up at that point—it took but a few seconds for the gross image to have him back down to soft and stable, his breathing evening out as a laugh bubbled in his chest. He let it out, hearing it bounce off the walls as he finally turned around and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel off the rack to dry himself.

He didn't know why he was laughing. The absurd situation he found himself in? The image of his best friend—excluding Jared—standing in some model pose at the beach in a two-piece? The reality that he would be seeing Jared again that night for more than half an hour? He laughed until his cheeks hurt, wondering if he was about to commit himself to the nearest mental hospital, or call an ambulance because that was not normal behaviour.

Once he got to his room, almost dried, his laughter slowed to a standstill, shoulders giving a few non-committal shakes as he perched on the end of his bed, one elbow propped on his knee as he ran a hand down his face.

* * *

Jensen stepped out of the taxi and closed the door behind him, tapping the top of the vehicle with a kind, thankful smile on his face. The taxi driver waved to him before driving off, a slight screech to the wheels as it burnt rubber. Jensen watched as it went, telling himself that it was not to postpone the inevitable—that he wasn't using every excuse he could to avoid having to see anyone just yet.

He knew he was full of shit, though, straightening the cuffs of his jacket as he made for the meeting point, aware enough that once he stepped through those doors, he would not be able to talk his way out of staying. It wasn't that he couldn't be a smooth talker when he wanted to be. It was more to do with not wanting to let anyone down, and that being much more difficult to ignore when he was in the presence of the people that he called family.

The doors to the local bar opened for him, an edgy looking man holding it steadily until Jensen slipped through, throwing thanks over his shoulder. His parents taught him to be polite, after all. Jensen started unbuttoning his jacket before he reached the bar, refusing to look around the room in search of any familiar faces. It would be better if he could have a drink in his hand, first.

He leant an elbow against the bar top, pulling his wallet out of his pocket. He kept it wedged between thumb and forefinger, tapping it against his leg as he waited for the young, fresh-looking server to finish tending to their current customer. He couldn't say that he minded the reprieve. His heart was already beating harder behind his ribcage, and he felt the presence of sweat developing on his palms, making them feel clammy.

As soon as he was acknowledged, he asked for a beer, offering a kind, toothy smile that appeared to sit well with the server. They smiled back at him, throwing looks his way every few beats, trying to sneak glances at him. Jensen didn't mind the attention, so long as they understood that nothing would become of it. With his server being a small, petite, young woman, there couldn't have been a worse matchup for him. Still, he wasn't going to be rude, so he did return a couple of smiles, trying not to smirk when the tips of her ears reddened as he passed her a bill for his drink.

Jensen thanked her, then, grabbing his drink and heading off to the right. He wasn't sure where they were exactly. It didn't matter, since it was unlikely that there was going to be anyone in the place taller than his stepbrother, so all he had to do was watch out for a head above the rest. He was surprised by how quiet the place was, considering it was the evening, but he couldn't say that that was a bother for him. He preferred it that way.

After some minor searching, he caught sight of lanky arms stretching out above a tall, broad-shouldered, stunningly handsome frame, and knew that he had found his mark, mouth starting to water as he made his way over, one hand sinking into his pocket to limit his reach. Even though he spent a lot of his time avoiding Jared, he put every bit of effort he had into convincing him of the contrary when they were in each other's presence—pulling out a big brother move as he sidled up behind him and mussed up the back of his hair.

Jared rounded on him immediately, unsure as to how he should react. His face softened completely, posture shifting to open and familiar as he threw his arms around him and buried his face in his shoulder, one large hand a solid presence on the back of his head.

"God, I missed you, man," Jared muffled into his shoulder, rubbing his nose against him. Jensen hoped that he wasn't using him as a tissue, "You smell amazing," he added, audibly sniffing at his neck.

"Thanks, Gulliver," Jensen replied, keeping his voice steady and his libido in check, "It was supposed to be _annoying, grabby, cuddle-monster repellent_ , so I guess I got played."

Jared laughed against his neck, and the warmth of his breath felt like a phantom aphrodisiac creeping under his skin. He hadn't pulled away from him yet, seemingly determined to pass as many Mississippi's as possible before it was over, "I anticipated that, so I bought some _standoffish, wiseass, pretty-boy_ attractor."

"So, I'm powerless to break this hold, is what you're telling me?" Jensen grumbled, focusing a miffed look on his face because he knew if he allowed people to _see_ him, all they would witness would be the face of a man embracing the person he loved, and he wasn't about to let that happen.

"You love my ass too much to let go, anyway," Jared shot back, and Jensen could sense the humoured smile against his heated flesh.

Jensen rolled his eyes, then, grabbing that ass he loved so much and squeezing hard until Jared made an indignant sound, keeping his other hand tight around his beer bottle. He assumed that it would have been enough to have him back off, but he instead laughed in his face and asked for him to do it again, playfully.

"Don't tempt me," Jensen said, breaking the embrace, regretfully. He felt himself starting to harden halfway through and thanked whoever was listening that his layers prevented that fact from being perceivable, "Where's everyone else?"

Jared's cheeks tinted then, hand coming up to push his hair out of his face, "Well, uh... They'll be here in about an hour."

Jensen frowned and took a pull of his beer, eyebrows knitted together, "I thought I was late...," he admitted, omitting the part about it being entirely on purpose.

"You _are_ late," Jared agreed, crossing his arms over his chest and tapping his foot in his best pissed-off spouse impression, "I lie and tell you to come earlier so I can spend some time with you before everyone else turns up, and you don't even bother to haul ass for me," he added with humour. Still, Jensen could sense a touch of a question in there somewhere, silently asking him why he didn't come when he called.

"So, you _lured_ me here against _my_ will, and _I'm_ the one to blame?" Jensen countered, licking his lips, "I thought we were past victim-blaming."

" _You're_ the victim? _I've_ been the one standing here waiting for you to show up. I had to tell people I was a widow _just_ to get a drink," Jared joked, and Jensen could see him biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

"And you were waiting for _me_ to get the drinks in? This just gets better and better," Jensen replied with a mock sneer, moving over nearer to the door in case he wanted to get some air, and Jared followed without a word, brushing their shoulders together, "What am I supposed to say when people come over offering you their condolences?"

"You pretend to be dead like a _good_ husband, _obviously_ ," Jared answered, eyes bugging for a second as he looked over to the where he must have left his drink. While he went to fetch it, Jensen worked on restarting his system after the vision of standing at the altar with Jared beside him wreaked havoc on his subconscious, "Hasn't it always been your dream to act out _Weekend at Bernie's_?" Jared suggested, standing closer than he needed to, hip almost pressing against his side. Jensen snatched the drink out of his hand before he had a chance to take a sip from it, "If you wanted some, all you had to do was ask."

Jensen deepened his voice as he said, " _Go_ get yourself _another_ one, Jayby."

He rested his beer on the table as he pulled out a few notes from his wallet, handing them over with clear intent. Jared seemed to understand where he was coming from, eyeing the previously abandoned glass with caution before leaning in to most likely kiss Jensen on the cheek, which he avoided with a well-timed light shove with his hand and a dismissive word.

Once Jared had a replacement drink and was back by his side, Jensen relaxed again, eyes suspicious of every other person in the bar. He didn't know if anyone had done anything to Jared's drink, but he wasn't about to let him take that risk. Not then, not ever.

"Seriously, man, how are you?" Jared questioned earnestly, eyes soft and eager to hear his answer, "Mamma keeps asking after you. She says you haven't returned her calls in weeks."

Jensen stiffened as the truth hit him in the face, "It's not good enough, but I did text her to say that I have lots of stuff on my plate right now," he replied, feeling like shit.

The real question Jared wanted to ask him—and Jensen could see it as clear as day in his eyes—was why he hadn't returned _his_ calls, either, but both of them knew that Jared was never going to touch that with a ten-foot pole.

"She told me you texted her, yeah, but she said she just wanted to hear your voice. She was crushed when she had to cancel on today. I tried to convince Pappa to come along anyway, but he said it wouldn't be fair to leave Mamma on her own."

Hearing the words increased the level of tension in his shoulders, but Jensen ignored it, "I promise I'll video chat her tomorrow, okay?"

Jared clapped a hand on his shoulder, then, smile so full of love and appreciation that Jensen thought he might have melted, "Thanks, man. It'll make her day. I mean, we both know that _I'm_ the _favorite_ , but that doesn't mean that number two gets to disappear without a trace."

"You keep telling yourself that, _honey_."

"I don't need to. There's a placard that says so," Jared replied teasingly, falling into a seat after setting his glass on the table, a relaxed sigh leaving him, head tilting up to chase Jensen's eyes, "Anyway, you still owe me a night of getting drunk because you never celebrated me getting my new job."

"I thought strip joints frowned upon family members throwing crumpled ones at their siblings," Jensen teased, tongue between his teeth, "I'll sit up front and centre at your next show."

"I come expensive or a I don't come at all," Jared rebuffed with a wink, lips on the rim of his glass as he stared into Jensen's eyes. Jensen screamed himself hoarse in his head as fantasy Jared dipped and bent for him, pushing his fantastical ass out in waiting for Jensen's imaginary bills to be slotted between his glutes. He quickly replaced the image with Chris doing the same thing and his stomached flipped in a bad way, reminding him that he owed his friend a couple of beers, "Songs have been written about my lap-dances," Jared continued, oblivious to Jensen's inner turmoil.

"Yeah, there're hits like: _Make it Stop, Please, Oh God, Make_ _it Stop; I Don't Want This Right Now; This Was a Waste of My Money,_ and we can't forget, _Manakins Had More Grace."_

Jared attempted to glare at him, but the quirking of his lips gave way to how he felt about it, "Those people had no taste, _clearly_ _."_

Jensen swallowed the build-up in his mouth and grinned, "There are always one or two people willing to lower their standards."

Keeping up that act was hard for Jensen because he didn't believe a word he was saying. Even though they both knew that he was messing with him, it physically hurt him to say negative comments about Jared.

"That explains your last relationship," Jared countered with a brilliant laugh, the sound effortlessly increasing Jensen's heartrate, " _Man,_ I couldn't even say that with a straight face... Damn you and your _ungodly_ beauty."

"We can't all be this blessed," Jensen agreed, smirking unabashedly as he inwardly reminded Jared that _he_ was the beautiful one.

"Yeah, well... I'm sure you'll give birth to some inhumanly perfect babies one day."

Jensen tapped his belly with his free-hand, "My uterus dried up years ago."

They both grinned as Jared pitched forward to talk to his _uterus_ to _revitalise_ it, "I guess you'll have to do it the old-fashioned way then," Jared said, retreating, dimples out in full force.

"To be honest, I would rather do _that_ than give _birth,_ even if it _was_ possible," Jensen admitted, shuddering at the image.

"You don't wanna be a Mamma? _I do_. I want seven kids, fifteen dogs and an Alpaca."

In an alternate universe where that was possible, Jensen would give Jared all of that without hesitation. Reality dictated that men could not get pregnant, however. Despite the admittedly adorable image of Jared with a baby bump, sitting on the couch and talking to his belly while Jensen leant his head against his shoulder, it was a fantasy.

"An _Alpaca_? Is that some weird sex thing the kids are doing these days?" Jensen questioned, wondering if he should take a seat of his own. On the one hand, he didn't want Jared's neck to be uncomfortable looking up at him the whole time. On the _other_ hand, he liked Jared having to look up at him at that angle, so it was a dilemma.

"Yeah, and her name would be Rosey," Jared clarified with a nod of his head. His eyes tracked Jensen's side step to enable some girl to grab her jacket from the back of the chair he was stationed in front of, "All dogs other than Harley and Sadie would be named after colors, and the kids would be named after Sesame Street characters."

"They would _hate_ you," Jensen intoned, rolling his eyes at Jared's not _at all_ cute pout, "At least eighty-three per cent of serial killers turn out that way because of the horrible names their parents gave them."

"That's not true," Jared argued, " _Is_ it?"

Jensen bit back a laugh and shook his head, "Nah, I don't think so."

"Good. Purple and Elmo it is, then," Jared replied, eyes dancing with uncontained mirth. He looked as though he was having the time of his life just being there in that moment with Jensen, and that knowledge physically pained him, because he denied himself and Jared those moments far too often for it to be fair. Regardless of how he felt about his brother, he knew that Jared cherished the time that they spent together. He felt like a complete and total ass at that moment, watching the laugh lines on Jared's face, the barely visible fear that it would all be over sooner than he would have hoped. That look ate away at a piece of his soul.

Jensen wished that they could spend more time together, fly away somewhere where they could be free to do as they pleased. He would be happy to live out the rest of his life on some abandoned island as long as Jared would be right there with him. Unfortunately, Jensen was a pragmatist. He understood that for him to prevent creating a rift between them, they were better apart, as much as he could stomach. Being in Jared’s orbit welcomed far too many opportunities to mar what they already possessed. Jensen would not be able to last day after day, blinded by radiant smiles and a body made for worshipping, without giving in to the desires that he toiled over keeping a lid on.

 _No_. Until he could exist in the same room as Jared and _not_ have the appetite to _claim_ him, staying away was the safer option.

They continued to chat amongst themselves, catching up on the events that either of them had missed. Jensen failed to mask his surprise at the mention of Jared’s ex-partner kicking him to the curb. He couldn’t comprehend how anyone would ever want to give up their chance. He was sunshine and rainbows personified. Choosing to let that go sounded unreasonable. Jared told him that they felt as though he wasn’t in the relationship the same way they were, which he agreed with. Jensen felt better knowing that Jared wasn’t upset about the whole ordeal, though he regretted not being there for him at the time.

In other news, Jared liked his new job. He gushed about how _awesome_ his colleagues were, how nice they were to him, how they invited him to a couple of parties in those coming months. Jensen wasn’t shocked at all by that. There have been far too many occasions where Jared had walked into a public space and made multiple friends within five minutes. His brother had a gift for making those around him feel at ease, content, eager to soak up some of his light. Jensen would be jealous if he weren’t making a conscious effort to stay away.

When Jared turned the spotlight onto him, Jensen did his best not to give too much away. He knew he couldn’t tell Jared about the BDSM. Sure, he would listen to him, nod understandingly and then probably ask a million questions about it, but Jensen liked having that as his little, private secret. He also didn’t want Jared looking at him any differently. Knowing that Jensen got off on dominating another person might give him pause, and that wasn’t something he wished to happen on any given day.

Eventually, other people arrived. Jensen forced himself to tear his attention away from Jared and start greeting family members and friends, putting on a smile he hoped seemed convincing enough. It wasn’t as though seeing them didn’t make him happy. He liked them well enough, but Jared never failed to have him unequivocally immersed, everyone else disappearing around him to leave just the two of them in the room, together at last. _That_ was why he needed to keep his distance the rest of the time.

As more people turned up, voices began climbing over each other. Jensen masked his lack of interest in their Auntie’s story about the frog that had decided to make a home for itself in her garden, offering a sample-sized laugh as she got to the end of it. He was _listening_ to what she was saying, but he was _focusing_ on Jared rubbing shoulders with one of their cousins, one large hand at the nape of Lenny’s neck as he laughed, face alight with joy and familial love.

Jensen knew that his teeth chewing on the inside of his cheek and nails digging into his palms was an overreaction. He knew that, but it didn’t stop him, eyes narrowing a touch as he continued to look on as Jared laughed without a care in the world, his _hand_ still on Lenny’s neck. The image stirred something dark within him, twisting him in ways that he wasn’t able to comprehend at the time. Jealousy, he understood. The sudden urge to punch out their cousin was something foreign to him. Jensen couldn’t see the motivation behind getting violent when what they were doing was ultimately harmless. Jared had always been affectionate, hands-on, touchy-feely–his aversion for personal space was astounding, so none of his actions should have Jensen batting an eyelid.

They did, though. A fever was rising in his belly. His jaw was ticking. There was a tightness in his face that left him wanting to stretch his jaw out. The knuckles of his left hand were pulled so thin his hand shook within his pocket. To the outside observer, they would have seen a placid smile on a poised man, but Jensen was anything _but_ those things then. All he wanted to do was step in between them, forcing them to break apart, distancing them enough that Jared’s reach broke indefinitely. Every muscle in his body demanded that he do what he wanted to do. He didn’t, though. It was not his place to interfere with Jared having a good time, and he had no reason to come between them. They weren’t doing anything wrong. They were _just_ talking.

A little while later, Jensen was in the middle of thinking of a reason that he could duck out early when the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, an ethereal warning causing his body to stiffen. He _felt_ something to the right of him and turned his head, anger boiling inside at the realisation that Jared was in the middle of three well-built men, all crowded around him, further into his space than they had any business being.

Jensen wasn’t sure what he should have done, beer-bottle a grounding presence in his hand as he gripped it tight. It was his fifth of that night. The alcohol hadn't takin him under its wing, yet, but it had its hooks in enough that the part of him that believed it wasn’t _at all_ his place to step in when Jared was perfectly capable of taking care of himself–what with his massive build and all–didn’t apply anymore. Instinct implored that he get his ass over there and tell those douchebags to hit the road, _Jack._ It also demanded that he do something much more drastic. He wasn’t going to take it that far, though. Not unless _they_ took it there _first,_ that was.

Unable to stop himself, Jensen casually made his way over to the four men, eyes taking in Jared’s slight nervous disposition before settling into the space provided. He smiled like it was a typical setting, giving each of them a quick once over, immediately registering the heat in their eyes. He didn’t need to ask to know that they were angling for _something_ there–something involving _Jared._ And, perhaps, even himself if the thorough appraisal he received was anything to go by. Neither of those things was going to happen on his watch, though. He would make sure of that.

“Hey, Jayby, what’s going on?” Jensen asked easily, licking his lips, “Aren’t you gonna introduce me to your new _friends_?”

Jared nodded minutely in front of him, shoulders relaxing, “I didn’t actually get their names.”

One of the men–tall, broad, somewhat handsome–reached out to take Jared’s hand. He stopped when he caught Jensen’s subtle scathing look, the gleam in his eyes promising that he might not hold onto his hand for much longer if he followed through with his plan. Jensen denied the satisfied smile that wanted to break out when the man stopped short of connecting, pretending he was going to run his hand through his hair the whole time.

Jensen could see that the other two were watching the interaction, trying to make themselves appear taller. Tall and Broad must be the weakest of the group, his friends rising to defend him if Jensen started anything. They didn’t need to put on such a front. Jensen could see from one observation that they were not the fighting type, and at least one of them was not against bending to someone else’s will.

“I’m Mark. That’s Harry, and that’s Simon,” Mark–the tall and broad one–said hesitantly, stepping back calculatedly. Jensen chose that moment to take a pull from his beer, concealing his smirk, “We were just getting to know Jared here,” he added like an afterthought, daring to cut his eyes to Jensen for a brief moment as if seeking his approval.

He wasn’t getting it from him.

“Nice to put names to faces,” Jared responded kindly, presenting his hand. Jensen wasn’t going to turn the same look on Jared, so he was left with no other choice but to let it slide.

Mark didn’t take the bait, “I’d shake your hand, but I’m a bit of a germaphobe… I hope you understand,” he replied evenly, sweat beading on his brow. Jensen wasn’t sure why he didn’t accept the offer, but he wasn’t going to complain about it.

Harry sealed his hand over Jared’s instead, a pointed look at Jensen as he said, “ _I’m_ not a germaphobe. _Nice grip_.”

Jared’s cheeks tinted, “Uh… Thanks.”

As measured as he could, Jensen dragged in air through his nose, eyes sliding shut against the onslaught of violent images in his head. Being there was not healthy for him. He was _not_ a violent man. That fact didn’t seem to put a stop to the craving to bash Harry’s stupid, stubbly face in until he forgot the feeling of having Jared’s skin meshed with his own.

“You’re so wel–,” Harry’s sentence tapered off. Jensen wasn’t yet ready to take in the sight before him so he couldn’t guess what triggered it. When he did open his eyes, Harry’s skin was sickly pale, his hand was back at his side, and his chest was pointing toward the exit. Was he _really_ that terrifying? Jensen didn’t think so, “We should probably get going if we’re gonna catch the next bus, guys,” Harry suggested, making eyes at the other two members of the trio.

Simon–the one who hadn’t said anything–flicked his eyes away at Jensen’s knowing stare. He could see that Simon was aroused by whatever he was doing–not that he knew himself what that was.

“Well, it was nice meeting you all,” Jared said politely, flashing a brilliant smile that had Jensen breathing out harshly through his nose. He could visibly _see_ Mark wrestling with his apparent desire as he put on a casual grin, tipping his head before walking with the rest of the group, “They were nice,” Jared added a few moments after they exited, appearing to be blind to what had _really_ been going on during that exchange.

Jensen was astonished that Jared missed the point of it. His brother was not an idiot. He was one of the most intelligent people that Jensen had ever had the pleasure of knowing. But as he looked at him, Jensen was sure that Jared was utterly clueless, dimpled cheeks stretched to their maximum as he stared back, posture open and inviting. Jensen snapped his eyes away for a second to calm himself, finishing off the rest of his beer with a few quick drags.

“Yeah. Nice people,” Jensen replied, hoping his voice wasn’t as tight as at it felt, “Did you get any of their numbers?”

Jared laughed and slapped a hand down on his shoulder, “Nah. They looked like they wanted to devour me. I’ll pass. _You_ should have gotten their numbers.”

“So you _did_ see the way that they were stripping you on the spot?” Jensen said with a quirk of his brow, head bobbing, “Maybe I shouldn’t have interrupted you,” he continued, pretending the idea didn’t make him feel nauseous.

“I’m glad you did, man. _My hero,_ ” Jared intoned, blinking his eyes rapidly, lashes fluttering whimsically.

Jensen pushed him away, “Don’t make me feel worse. It’s bad enough knowing I saved your ass without you throwing it in my face.”

“We both know that you would rescue me from the evil dragon, so don’t pretend,” Jared warned playfully, “And you could do a lot worse than _my_ ass being thrown in your face,” he finished with a scandalous wink, eyes filling with mirth as he sunk his teeth into the flesh of his lip to keep from laughing.

Jensen’s brain short-circuited.

* * *

On multiple occasions, Jensen had attempted to cut the evening short, sifting through excuses that he could use to have him gone before night fell on them. No one could say that he hadn’t _tried,_ but he _still_ ended up back at Jared’s place somehow, sitting on the couch with his tenth beer held loosely in his palm, vision not as sharp as it was earlier that evening.

Jensen had never been to Jared’s apartment before that night. He had roamed his tired eyes over it as he walked through, picking up on the painting that didn’t belong there. Jensen could tell from one shaky glance that Jared hadn’t picked it out. As a side note, it didn’t fit with the simple decor that he had, but Jensen wasn’t going to tell him that, having chosen not to comment on it at all as he had followed Jared into the kitchen, standing on unsteady feet as Jared secured them two beers from his fridge.

He felt safe and warm, cosy and content. Jensen couldn’t remember a time where he felt like that in his place, laid out on his couch with a movie on the TV, trying to follow the plot when all he wanted to do was sleep off the days work. His home was his home, sure. But his house was empty without the one person who he wanted to walk in and see doing their own thing.

Jensen did his best to nudge the thought to one side, sighing happily as he drooped into the back of Jared’s couch, legs spread and freehand flexing against the welcoming give of his seat. Off to the side, he could see Jared pottering about in an attempt to tidy up the room. Jensen told him from the off that he didn’t need to do that, but Jared seemed determined to be a presentable host.

“Come on, _Martha Stewart_. I’m not some _girl_ you’re wooing. We’ve shared a _room_ , dude,” Jensen said, belching at the end, “Better out than in I always say,” he added in his best impersonation of _Shrek_.

Jared laughed longer than he probably should have, picking up a discarded pizza box off the table, movements slow and tentative. He wasn’t fairing much better, it seemed, “That was pretty good, Jen,” Jared praised him, and Jensen bent forward on the seat, going for a half-bow.

His head felt fuzzy as he leant back, pressing the side of the bottle against his temple to soothe it. The last time he had ten beers in him was well over a year ago, then. Jensen wasn’t sure what he had been doing at the time, or how he had even gotten to that many beers without calling it a night. He assumed it must have been a good night if he doesn’t remember–probably best for him to not think about it.

Some minutes later, he felt his eyes starting to droop, bottle still against the side of his face. He dipped when Jared settled himself on the seat next to him, imploring him to move over. Sliding across the seat took more effort than he would care to admit, but he eventually situated himself a few paces to the right, leaning more towards the end of the couch to avoid being _too_ close.

“Why are you moving away from me?” Jared whined, closing the distance between them until his thigh aligned with Jensen’s, “I’ll only _bite_ if you ask me to.”

Jensen swallowed, throat wet and agreeable, “Yeah, yeah, _Twilight_.”

“I missed this,” Jared said, turning his head to the side to face him, eyes glazed over, “I missed spending time with you, Jen. We don’t do it s'much anymore.”

“Well, uh… Y’know. Work and such–”

“I know you’re avoiding me, Jen. I have done for a long time.”

Jared twisted his body, chest angled towards him, one hand hesitantly reaching forward until it chose to perch on his knee, the heat radiating underneath the material of his jeans. Jensen felt himself stir. Jared’s body being that close to him was causing all kinds of problems for him. He needed to get out of there–to get _away._ Excusing himself would be the right thing to do at that time. He knew that, but his mouth wasn’t allowing him to get the words out, set in a thin line that didn’t budge no matter how fast his brain was churning out reasons for him to get out of dodge–to flee the temptation sitting next to him.

He knew that he should come up with a better reason for his increased absences–he needed something that would maintain their relationship while remaining distant, safe. Turning his head would be a mistake. Those eyes that haunted his dreams would have been tainted with misery and abandonment. Jensen wouldn’t be able to handle seeing that there, especially knowing that he was the cause of it. He had always maintained that he never intended to hurt Jared. By not revealing to him that he was purposefully ensuring that they spent less and less time together, he assumed he would be able to have his cake and eat it too. That was just another fantasy that he convinced himself that he could have.

There had to be something that he could do to ease the tension, to stop his whole world from crumbling before his very eyes. Sometimes he felt as though his heart was linked to Jared’s, and that he could feel whatever Jared was feeling. Growing up, he always knew what mood Jared was in from one look. On multiple occasions, his own actions were directly affected by Jared’s emotions. When their Grandfather passed away, Jensen was upset, yes. But what broke him was the empty pit in Jared’s stomach, tears falling from his eyes before he had known what had been happening, pulling Jared into a hug that he could have only hoped would assuage his misery while drying up the dam behind _his_ eyelids.

Jensen breathed in through his nose, picking up on the scent of Jared’s aftershave. He was close. _Too_ close. Jared needed to be further away from him, at the other end of the house if it was possible. Jensen could feel the aching desire burning inside his chest, wanting to reach out, pull Jared on top of him and taste those lips he’d been dreaming of for years. He knew he couldn’t do that, though. The one thing he did know was that he needed to get out of there as soon as he possibly could.

Alcohol was a bad idea. Alcohol _and_ Jared was a worse idea.

“Jensen, _please…”_ Jared hiccupped, squeezing his knee, “Just tell me what I can do to fix it– _fix us._ I promise I’ll do anything you want me to–”

“Jay. _Stop,”_ Jensen said resolutely, face tight. Jared telling him he’d do anything Jensen wanted was not good for him at that moment. It came with far too many thoughts. A list several miles long, complied with all of the things that Jensen wished he could do to Jared. None of them was innocent, “We’re not broken. It’s fine.”

“ _No,_ it isn’t, Jen,” Jared countered, pitching forward, head resting against Jensen’s shoulder, “Every time I get invited… Invited to events, I hope and pray that you’re gonna be there. I get so excited, y’know?… And then I get there. I look around for you and you’re not–you’re not _there.”_

Jensen felt sick. What little food he had before he got in the taxi was refusing to stay in his stomach. He could not do that there. Jensen refused to fall that far. Jared’s words were like a foot-long knife slowly inching into his flesh, the pace slow and agonizing, coming out the other side painted with blood, draining his life source while leaving behind all of the guilt that he felt. He didn’t deserve to be rid of it, that much was clear.

“Jared… I don’t know what to tell you, man. I have an important role to play in my job. It stops me from being able to go out and have fun _most_ of the time. It’s not just you that I don’t get to see,” Jensen explained, not completely lying, “But I’ll tell you this, you big baby… When I _do_ have time, you’re the one I call _first_.”

For a while, Jensen wasn’t sure if Jared was going to believe what he said. His eyes seemed like he had another fifty questions that he wanted to ask him as he raised his head. Jensen wanted to place his hand against Jared’s cheek, glide his thumb over the skin there, but he didn’t. He couldn’t do that. It was better that way–one day he would believe that.

Suddenly, Jared’s lips tilted up in a wide smile and he threw his arms around him, hugging him sideways, the warmth of his body bleeding into the samples of exposed skin. Jensen’s hands tensed at his sides, screaming to rise up and _touch._ He denied them, shoulders shaking with the force at which he held them there, all too aware that it would not end well.

“I’m sorry I doubted you,” Jared said, honest and sure, “I just love you so much that it hurts when you’re not there.”

Jensen registers Jared about to kiss his cheek and deflects him with a practised hand. Allowing Jared to plant one on him might not shatter them, but he had to keep up the act for both of their sakes.

“Of course it does. I’m amazing.”

“You _are_ ,” Jared replied, retreating with a gleam in his eye, “Speaking of amazing… I haven’t gotten head anywhere _near_ as good as yours.”

Jensen would have spat his drink out if he chose that moment to take a swig, “Excuse me?”

“Yeah, man. Compared to you? Not even close. I haven’t even _come_ from a blowjob since you. It was _that_ good, I’m telling ya’.”

The way Jared went on about it was so casual that Jensen almost forgot they were talking about oral sex. What was happening?

“It’s like I lie there and they’re sucking my dick or whatever, and I’m just like ‘Huh… This kind of sucks…’ no pun intended,” Jared laughed, eyes beaming with uncontained glee, “And then I start thinking about you lifting me up off the counter and deepthroating me. But they can’t do that. They’re girls. I’m tall and _big,_ y’know?”

Jensen did know. He also knew that he was hard in his jeans and his teeth felt like they were about to break.

He nodded to show that he was listening.

“I would ask some big, strong man to whisk me off my feet, but… I don’t really like dudes like that,” Jared added, looking pensive, “Maybe you could do it again? I mean, if you don’t mind… I am kind of, uh, horny,” he finished, a shyness piercing through his mask of self-assuredness.

All sense of thought left Jensen after those words left Jared’s mouth. He didn’t know what to say, to do. The rational part of him told him he should run for the door and not look back. The irrational part of him said that it was a blessing in disguise, that he shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. But that wasn’t the point. He knew that he couldn’t do it. It wouldn’t be right. Jared was drunk, perhaps even more so than he was. He couldn’t have been thinking reasonably.

“That’s funny, Jaybe,” Jensen waved it off, slapping his knee and rolling his eyes, “Tell me another one.”

Jared stilled beside him, tongue curling into his bottom lip, “I wasn’t joking,” he admitted, heat in his eyes.

Jensen ignored that look, still having refused to even turn his head in Jared’s direction--that didn't stop his periphery from picking up onit, unfortunately, “You’re crazy. You’re drunk. Go have some water and get to bed. I’ll get out of your hair,” he said as he went to stand, a large hand slinking around his wrist halting his exit, “Jay, let me go.”

“I don’t _want_ you to go.”

“I _have_ to go, Jay. You need to sleep. You’re not making sense–”

“I know what I’m doing. I know what I’m saying… And I know you said _never again_ , but I can’t get the way it _felt_ out of my head, man,” Jared confessed, biting his bottom lip, “All my birthdays have been crap since then.”

Extricating himself from Jared took far more will power than Jensen thought he possessed at that moment, but he managed it, “I’ll go pour you a glass. You hang out here. Just don’t fall asleep because I’m not carrying your lazy ass to bed.”

“You would carry my _lazy_ ass to bed,” Jared corrected him. And he was absolutely right, but Jensen wasn’t letting him know that, “Tuck me in and read me a bedtime story.”

Tuck Jared in, yes. Read him a bedtime story? If he really wanted one, Jensen would have without question.

“Keep dreaming,” Jensen retaliated, steeling his movements as he started off towards the kitchen, setting his beer bottle on the coffee table.

“One more time? Just one more. I won’t ask again, please?”

Jensen’s cock practically jumped inside his boxers, promising a slow and painful death if he didn’t get with the program. Letting it run the show would do him no favours, so he silenced it with a thought of self-mutilation. It wasn’t enough to kill it, but it certainly ceased its incessant throbbing.

“Jared–”

“ _Your way_. I remember. I can’t touch myself. I can’t fuck your throat. And I’m not allowed to put my hands in your hair, right? I remembered. _Please,_ Jensen.”

The day he managed to ignore _that_ tone of voice–that desperation and need singing to him in the most glorious of ways, that would be the day that he would be brain dead. How could he resist that plea? How could he call himself a red-blooded _male_ if he resisted that plea? Jensen shook his head and took a step forward, stopping dead in his tracks. Could he do that? One more time? Just once more, under his rules? What was the worst that could happen? Jared was _begging_ him for it, and he was sure enough to have remembered the rules that he had given him the first time…

He knew what his body wanted, already leaning as far as it could in Jared’s direction without forcibly turning his feet. What if Jared woke up the next day with regrets, though? What if he never wanted to see Jensen again? What if Jensen _lost control_? That would be the one thing that he would never forgive himself for. If he allowed himself to _take_ what he wanted, Jared would be afraid of him–if he truly knew the things that he was capable of.

Jensen gritted his teeth and exhaled sharply through his nose. Jared was asking him for it. He was _begging_ him for it. He was speaking as though he was in control of himself enough to let his voice be heard, his desires laid out and left for Jensen to say yes or no. The offer was there for him to lead the whole thing, to have the power that he so desperately craved. And it would have been so sweet for him to have that dominium over Jared. To bend him to his will. To strip him bare and _take_ what he was so _willingly_ offering…

Doubt was still present in his mind when he pivoted on his foot, digging his heels into the ground to steady himself as he regarded Jared coolly. Jared had swivelled on the seat, legs spread in front of him, head tilted up, gaze unwavering as he looked for the ascent he wanted. Jensen could see the thickness pushing against the material of his pants, eager to break free and breathe the fresh air. He eyed it hungrily, knowing what was waiting behind there, eager to feel the hot flesh on the flat of his tongue once more.

In an instant, it was as if a switch flicked off. If he could have put a name to it, he would have said that it was his restraint. He hoped that he wasn’t making a mistake by pulling back the blinds.

One moment he was standing a few feet away from Jared, head bent forward, observing his tribute. The next, he had his belt ripped free from his waistband, snapping the leather tight with his hands. Jared watched him with interest, white-knuckling his jeans as he waited for whatever was coming next.

“Get undressed. I don’t want to hear one word out of you until this is over. Do you understand?”

Jared nodded, something like a question present in his eyes somewhere. Jensen ignored it and cracked the belt against his hand again, communicating wordlessly that Jared should have been peeling out of his clothes. His movements were hurried, stumbling a bit as he shucked his shoes off, fumbling with his own belt in the next instance. Once he had his jeans off, he looked back to Jensen, gesturing to his shirt. Jensen raised one eyebrow as if to say _what does undressed mean to you,_ and then Jared was stood completely naked in front of him.

Jensen would beat himself up for it later, but he couldn’t _stop himself_ from drinking in every layer of skin. Every detail burned into his retinas. He saw dusky nipples that he wanted to seal his lips over and bite until they bled, sinewy muscles pulled tight as Jared stood with his hands clasped together in the centre, above his cock. Jensen followed the ‘V’ of Jared’s pelvis, licking his lips at the eroticism. Jared was a work of art for his eyes only. He wanted to kiss, bite, lick, suck every trace of Jared to one degree or another, but that wasn’t what he was there to do at that moment. Jared hadn’t asked him to _ravish_ him, just suck his cock again.

“Good. You’re hard.”

Jared nodded, sucking his lips into his mouth.

“Move over there,” Jensen demanded, a vicious need swelling within him when Jared adhered to his whim without so much as a backwards glance, settling himself by the wall, his mouth twitching at the possible touch of cold. Jensen had enjoyed the walk perhaps too much, seeing those mounds of flesh drop and sway, firmer and rounder then than they had been when he was eighteen. Jensen’s teeth ached to break the skin just below the waistline, leave his mark so that when Jared’s shirt rose high enough, anyone looking would see _his_ stamp.

Jensen rested the belt over his shoulders and stalked into Jared’s space until their crotches were almost touching. He offered no warning before he embraced Jared’s thighs and hauled him up the wall. Jared had the mind to dangle his legs over Jensen’s shoulders, slapping his hands back against the wall. Jensen backed off enough that he could reach the tip of Jared’s cock with his mouth and sealed his lips around it, taking half on the first pull without even thinking about it.

God, he had missed that feeling. That taste. _Jared’s_ taste.

He snagged the belt from under Jared’s knees as he started to pitch his head forward and back, holding it up for Jared to take. Once he had it in one unsteady hand, Jensen let him slip from his mouth.

“Bite down on it,” Jensen ordered, waiting for Jared to accept his bounty before taking him right down to the base, breathing in hard through his nose as he tightened his lips and tongue, tracking the familiar ridge all the way back with the tip.

Jared groaned deep in his throat around the improvised gag, the backs of his knees shaking on Jensen’s shoulders. Jensen didn’t mind. He could take the burn. His hands pounded Jared’s impressive glutes, the sound shooting through his ears and dropping straight to his cock, fingers pulling the cheeks apart without his permission, digging into the meat.

Jensen took Jared as deep as he would go in his mouth, choked sounds emanating from his throat as spit leaked out of the corners. He hummed like it was the best treat in the world, a gasp escaping the edges as he hooked his thumbs around Jared’s hips and pushed him back out, pausing at the head to hollow his cheeks and clamp his lips down as hard as he could, dragging over the head as slowly as a snail would avoid oncoming traffic.

With his grip steady, he turned his head to the side, allowing Jared’s cock to pass over his cheek, rubbing against four-day stubble. He felt Jared’s hips _jerk_ in his hold, repeating the same action twice more before flicking his tongue over the underside. The slick flesh was hot against his lips as he leant in to secure one large, round testicle into his mouth, sucking delicately at the skin, treating it with care and finesse, tongue hoisting it up and over the arch, cherishing it for all its worth. He released it a few moments after, ducking his head a tad more to swipe against its twin, blowing out a soft channel of air until the fine hairs rose. Jensen briefly noted that Jared shaved his balls regularly, and wondered if anyone else had actually done this to him before as he licked and sucked at the skin, again and again, squeezing Jared’s ass with his hands, one traitorous finger sneaking into the crease to stroke over Jared’s hole.

The answering jerk was hard to ignore. Jared’s cock tapped against the side of his face and a large glob of pre-come dropped onto his neck. Jensen’s balance nearly failed him at that moment, digging his heels in to keep them both upright as he circled Jared’s _smooth_ opening with the tip of his finger. He wasn’t going to push in. If he did that there would be no turning back.

“Gaaahhh,” Jared moaned from above him, smacking his head back against the wall.

Jensen didn’t tilt his head back to take it in. Doing so would have been a huge risk. The sound was muffled by the belt, but it was enough to prove that he was doing all of the right things at that point. Jensen ignored the pressure in his groin, the hardness so incredibly uncomfortable that he briefly worried it might snap.

As the image played through his mind, he took Jared back into his mouth and teased the head with languid whirls of his tongue, making sure he triggered each nerve on his way around, swallowing the next set of pre-come flowing out of the slit. His cock was distracting enough that he bit back a snarl and dropped one of his hands to free himself, the engorged, angry organ springing out of its prison and demanding to be touched.

Jensen already let it out. He was not going to touch it. Like the first time, it was _not_ about _him._

He sucked Jared’s cock relentlessly, hand back on Jared’s ass, kneading the flesh. The friction was palpable, wet glide over Jared’s heated, pulsing cock burning his lips with the strength he pulled them in, a warmth spreading through him each time Jared’s body twitched above him, abs flexing, balls drawing up, hand smacking against the wall to express his current thoughts. They were both sweating then. Jensen’s jaw felt like it was about to fall off, but he was not willing to stop for anything. Bring on the Earthquakes. Bring on the Zombie invasion. They could smash through the window–he still wouldn’t have stopped taking Jared to the root, swallowing hard; throat constricting.

“Fuuuuugh,” Jared expressed, hands clenching into fists at his sides. Jensen watched them twitch, bones pushing out against the skin. It was incredible knowing that he was bringing on all of that.

Jensen pulled off with one final, deep plunge, bracing his knees as he lowered them down the wall. Once he had enough leverage, he turned them and laid Jared out on the ground. Jared’s skin was coated with a thin sheen of sweat. His muscles periodically jolted as if he was being zapped with a cattleprod, the skin straining from the tension. His legs spread out without Jensen having to tell him to do anything, settling between them as if he belonged there.

The tempting flesh became all too much for Jensen, and his head dived in, lips stopping just above the halfway point of the ‘V’. He didn’t look up. He didn’t want to know how Jared was looking at him. At that point, Jensen wanted to _taste._

And he did. Jensen ghosted his teeth over the tanned, twitching line and bit into it, lips bracketing the strip as he sucked the blood up against the surface. The clang of metal hitting the floor alerted Jensen to Jared having lost the gag, hands scraping along the floor to try and gather it back up. Jensen smirked over Jared’s succulent flesh, sliding backwards to bend and bite into the meat of Jared’s thigh with enough intent to break the skin, a faint drop of blood touching his tongue.

It woke up something inside Jensen, then. He tucked in his knees and lifted Jared’s leg, biting and sucking above the femur, not stopping until his nose was nuzzling Jared’s left bollock. He could see _his_ marks starting to form on Jared’s body. Seeing it made his cock throb, head inches from brushing against the soft skin of Jared’s leg. He forced his hips back as far as they would go to maintain as much distance as was humanly possible at that point, releasing his hold.

Jensen licked a line up the side of Jared’s cock, sealing his hand over Jared’s mouth as he bottomed out, not willing to wait for him to resecure the belt any longer, fixing his eyes on Jared’s face for one moment. He shouldn’t have looked at him… Hair was sticking to Jared’s face. His eyes were lust-blown, cheeks flushed. He looked good enough to eat, and it took every bit of strength Jensen had left to let his lids fall.

He bobbed his head with renewed vigour, cradling Jared’s balls in his right hand, letting them pass over the divots of his fingers, pads a gentle caress against the sensitive flesh before he tugged them down as he swallowed around the base. He rose back up and tongued the slit, dropping back down to swallow again. Again and again he went up just to come down, lips tight and secure, the wet sound the only presence in the room, besides Jared’s muffled groans into Jensen’s palm.

Jared’s cock throbbed in his mouth, head beating like a marathon runners heart would, warning Jensen that it wouldn’t be long before it sprayed in his mouth. He was ready for it. He _wanted_ it.

“ _Come_ in my _mouth_ , Jared,” Jensen snapped, lips fluttering against the head of Jared’s cock as he got the words out. Jared nodded fiercely, fingers flexing on the floor.

Jensen grinned approvingly, pulling and kneading Jared’s balls, pinky finger ducking under to rub over the furled, slightly moist entrance as Jensen accepted Jared’s length into his throat for the final time that night. He peered up at him expectantly, desire burning in both their eyes as Jared threw his head back, screaming loud enough to send vibrations through Jensen’s skin, cock pulsing out heavy, potent streams of come.

When Jared’s essence hit the back of his throat, Jensen keened. His cock jumped, begging for its own release, but Jensen stubbornly ignored it, focusing on swallowing down all that Jared was so graciously offering him.

Jared’s orgasm was longer than last time, his cock valiantly pumping out less and less as it started to slip free from Jensen’s mouth, but he didn’t allow it to get away from him until he ensured it was clean, empty and satisfied.

Unable to help himself, Jensen leant around and bit into Jared’s hip, retreating when the mark was dark and resolute. He licked it as if to apologise for how hard he pressed his teeth in, trying to recall what he was supposed to be doing as he pushed himself away with his feet, breathing in and out raggedly. The taste of Jared was a demanding presence on his tongue and his throat hurt so _good,_ but he couldn’t help thinking about how something was _wrong_ there.

Below him, his cock angrily reminded him that it was hard and leaking, crying out for the lightest of touches so that it could get some well-earnt _release_. Jensen wanted to say no to it, to tell it to settle down and wait until he was alone in his house or something, but it wasn’t listening, making it incredibly difficult for him to focus.

He cast his eyes on Jared, seeing his chest rise and fall as he worked to get his breathing under control, legs flat on the floor. Jensen could see that mark on the _‘V’_ of Jared’s pelvis, singing to him as his cock tightened to the point of pain.

Jensen couldn’t take it anymore. He gripped his cock, stroked once and then came all over his shirt, balls jumping as he shot thick, hot streams of fluid rapidly, the base of his cock burning from the pressure, his hole tensing and untensing as he rode out his release, falling back against the floor with a light thud.

“That… Was… Amazing… Oh my _fucking_ god,” Jared said hoarsely, voice sounding a million miles away.

Jensen wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and turned his head to the side, staring at the wall.

“You’re welcome… I’m telling on you for swearing.”

“Idiot,” Jared replied, naked foot grazing his leg.

* * *

Jensen ended up staying at Jared’s that night. He slept on the sofa, a thin sheet pulled up and around him as he dozed there. When he came to that morning and remembered everything that happened, he went rigid. Ten seconds after waking up he ran to the bathroom, leaning over the toilet seat as he threw up the contents of his stomach, bile a harsh, scorching burn.

It was necessary. The feeling would maybe teach him to keep his mind in check. What the hell had he been thinking? _Biting_ Jared? _Marking_ Jared? Touching his hole? He went so far over the line he wouldn't have even seen it after a three-hour jog.

After his fourth flush of the toilet, he finally felt stable enough to rise to his feet, washing his hands and face in the sink. He swilled his mouth out with some of Jared’s mouthwash, deciding it would be best for him to have a glass of water before he left to go home. He would have to tell Jared that he was leaving or he would think that he did something wrong.

And he didn’t.

Jensen was the one in the wrong for allowing it to happen in the first place, and he would make damn sure that Jared understood that.

He didn’t have to wait long for Jared to come downstairs, his _brother_ yawning and stretching as he passed the final step, immediately taking note of him and smiling so brightly the sun must have been jealous.

“Hey. How did you sleep?” Jared asked, reaching out for a hug, which Jensen contemplated dodging. He thought better of it and circled his arms around Jared, resisting the urge to push their groins together.

“I slept fine. Thanks for letting me crash on your couch.”

“No problem, man,” Jared replied easily, taking his arms back and heading for the kitchen, “You want some food?”

“Nah, I’ll eat at home. Listen, Jayby… About last night. I’m sorry I did that to you.”

“What?” Jared rounded on him, seeming completely confused, “Dude, I asked you for the blowjob. And it was incredible. What are you apologising for?”

Jensen scratched the lobe of his ear, “The, uh, _other_ thing.”

“The belt?”

“No.”

“Censoring me?” Jared laughed.

Frustrated that he would have to say it, Jensen bit out, “The biting… And I touched your butthole. I’m sorry, Jay.”

Jared looked contemplatively for a single second before shrugging, “Hey, I liked it. I came like a rocket, so I’m not gonna complain. I just have to wear longer shirts for a few days. _Besides_ , man, we were both really drunk. You probably started seeing me as one of your hookups. Which is fine,” he trails off then, a smirk on his lips, “It was interesting to see what you’re like in the bedroom. Very bossy, but I can see the appeal.”

“All right. Well. As long as you’re okay. But, Jaybe. _Never again._ Understand?”

There was a long pause before Jared nodded his head, grabbing the coffee pot, “I don’t really see what the big deal is, but okay.”

Jensen was taken aback, jaw slack, “You’re my stepbrother. That’s basically incest, and you’re straight. That’s _not_ a big deal?”

“Jensen, _dude_ … I trust you more than anyone else in the entire _world_. And it’s a big world out there,” Jared told him, moving around the kitchen as he went about making a batch of fresh coffee, “I would take a bullet for you without even thinking about it. I would kill for you in a heartbeat. I would go to prison for you for the rest of my life if that’s what would keep you safe,” he continued, hips working as he reached for a cup. Jensen’s eyes caught the shift of his buttocks and groaned internally, “To me, getting a blowjob doesn’t blur the lines as much as it probably should, and I’m okay with that. Hell, I would have returned the favor if you had let me, sourpuss.”

“It takes a skilled mouth to get me off,” Jensen countered, struggling to compartmentalise all of that new information, “Regardless of that, it’s still never happening again.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Jensen’s cock twitched.

That was the second time he said _never again._


	3. The Third Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like, um, I wasn't expecting to it be this long or go as far as it did, or as deep--(that's not a pun, watch out), but the muse kind of went away with this one. And I like what it came to. 
> 
> It's given me ideas for the final part, so... I hope you like it. :>
> 
> Remember, if there's enough interest, Jared's side of the story will be written after this one is finished.

At the age of twenty-nine, during a beautiful middle of Spring, Jensen was in a good place in his life. He had a good job, a boyfriend. Things were going well for him. While he wouldn't have said that he woke up with a smile on his face every morning, there were occasions where he had pleasant wakeups. At least, he wouldn't have said _no_ if he was conscious. But after realising what they were doing, he was more than thrilled with the idea of laying back and letting them go to work on his cock.

Like any typical guy would, right? Jensen believed so.

Sex was a massive part of the thing that he had going with Landen. For starters, it was the reason they met. Landen had moved to town a couple of years ago and became a member of the BDSM club as soon as he became aware of its existence. When Jensen saw the new name on the list, he had felt a shot of curiosity zip through him and requested Landen for the night. Their first session together had been full of testing limits. Jensen pushed, and Landen took everything that he had to give him, without a moment's hesitation. It had been a bit of an ego boost if Jensen was entirely honest about the whole thing. One session turned into two, and three and four and five, and then one night after they were parting ways until the next time, Landen had broken character and asked Jensen if he wanted to go for a drink.

Jensen's gut instinct had been to say no. Why? Well, he couldn't answer. Jared had come to mind more than once when he was searching for reasons that they shouldn't meet up, until he eventually convinced himself that a drink wasn't going to hurt either of them.‌ For a large part of the not date, Jensen felt a deep sense of betrayal, on his part. Each time Landen smiled at something he had said, or he laughed at something Landen had said, a stab of something fierce left him bleeding out on the stone-cold floor.

It had been ridiculous. It still was.

So they had started meeting outside of the club.‌ They would get a few drinks. They would go back to Jensen's place, and Jensen would bend Landen over whichever surface they made it too, first. Jensen had been fine with it. He liked sex. Who didn't? It was a good arrangement. Fucking someone that he had done sessions with took some adjusting to, but once he got passed that, he screwed Landen every chance he got. Jensen hadn't realised how much pent-up frustration he had until Landen came along.

Jensen wasn't stupid. He knew that Landen shared traits with Jared, which was why Jared had yet to meet him. And wasn't going to if Jensen had anything to say about it. The internet was another issue in and of itself, but Jensen took care of that by discreetly blocking Jared on all of Landen's social media accounts so he would never be able to access the pictures of them together.

As for his own accounts? Jensen was never the type to shove his happiness in the face of the world, so that wasn't going to raise any red flags.

Jared asked about Landen. A lot. Almost to the point of being weird, but Jensen ignored it. Jared was always supportive of anything that he did, so it wasn't that much of a surprise that Jared would be naturally curious about the person that he was with. Even if some of the questions seemed a _tad_ over the top.

_"Does he like staying home while you do all the work?"_

_"What's his sign? A libra?‌ Dude, that's like your worst match ever. But I guess they say opposites attract or whatever."_

_"Landen uses the cheap shit from the ninety-nine cents store? Jen, how are you still with this guy?"‌_

_"You're kiddin' me? No foolin'? Afraid... of Bananas? Tell me you appreciate the irony in that?"‌_

_"What kind of upstanding citizen doesn't like alcohol? I mean, come on, man. That's just...‌Weird. Should I be lookin' out for your obituary in the paper?‌_

_"He cried during sex? Woah. That's... Hm. I guess I don't really know what to say about that. What did you do?"‌_

Of course, it didn't help that Jensen told Jared everything. He might have been able to curb his brothers' enthusiasm if he had just told him to mind his own business.‌ But that was never going to happen, obviously.

Credit where it was due, Landen didn't make a fuss about it, which Jensen appreciated. He was used to things not working out with his partners because they didn't like playing second fiddle to Jared. Jensen would be remiss not to let them know that if a choice had to be made, it was going to be Jared without a moment's hesitation. There was no point starting something without revealing his intentions from the off. Yes, he could wait for them to be settled before pulling the rug out from underneath them, but it would be pointless if they ended up leaving him once the cat was out of the bag, anyway.

Landen did make a couple of faces that Jensen remembered vividly but otherwise left them to it.

Jensen thought about it, hypothesizing that Landen may have been compliant because it was in his nature to be--to not question Jensen's rules or interfere with his personal business. He supposed that was what it came down to when you took someone who was naturally submissive to be your partner. Jensen couldn’t say that he didn't get a kick out of the devotion, even if he had often fantasized that the one bending to his will was Jared, with a collar around his neck, and a leash held in Jensen's grip, stroking Jared's beautiful hair with his free hand.

He shuddered at the image, body tingling as he absentmindedly muted his alarm, alone and burdened with morning wood.

Landen left him a couple of weeks ago. Jensen was having a hard time processing it. He didn't feel like his life was over, but he was so used to waking up with the man in his bed, that now that he wasn't there, it felt empty. Landen told him that he was under the impression that Jensen wasn't in the relationship like he was, that he was _more or less_ on the outside looking in, rather than being an active participant. He admitted that he believed Jensen was seeing someone else when he was looking at him during sex.

He wasn't wrong. It wasn't all of the time, but more often than not,‌ Jensen was imagining Jared sprawled out beneath him, taking his cock with ease and grace, bowing his back off the bed with each accurate brush over his prostate.

In his defence, Jensen _tried_ really hard to not think of Jared. Nothing seemed to be able to stop him, though. At one point, he had to imagine Jared _just_ to get it up. Yeah, he'd fallen. He'd fallen far down the rabbit hole, with no end in sight. That was the reason Jensen felt terrible about the whole thing. He was cheating from day one, practically, using Landen's similar frame to add more weight to his fantasies.

Jensen sighed. The sad part was that he was more upset that he didn't have someone close to the object of his desire to assist in painting a greater mental picture anymore, than the knowledge that Landen had left him. He was pitiful, and he hated himself for it.

As nice as it would be to blame Jared for his situation, he can't. It's not as though Jared actively participated in Jensen's mental cheating. He was a but a pawn in the lucid dreams and daytime imaginations. Jensen wasn't even sure if he would have been capable of stopping himself from going there even if he had wanted to. The notion was bizarre, but he didn't find himself denying it. Jared was so ingrained within his mind's eye that Jensen struggled to make it through an hour without thinking up some kind of orgasmic fantasy with Jared as the leading role. He was rather pathetic if you asked him.

Pathetic enough to turn over onto his front, shoving a pillow beneath his cock as he ground against it while curling his fingers into the sheets. Jensen rutted on the Egyptian cotton, catching a strip of material between his teeth. He growled deep in his throat, picturing Jared locking his ankles around his waist, neck eking out, begging for Jensen to sink his teeth into the meatiest part and bite down, snarling and bucking. Jensen tucked one arm underneath the pillow, keeping it in place as he rocked--eyes squeezing shut at the toe-curling sensation gliding over his sensitive cock.

There was one name on his lips as he came with a muffled grunt, nose wrinkling in self-disgust as his cum smeared his chest and stomach, blending into the pillow. He knew if he didn't move soon, it would become stuck to him, which would make it worse.

Anger spiked, and Jensen launched the soiled pillow at the wall, rolling over onto his back. He breathed out a harsh breath, thumping the sheets with both fists clenched. None of what happened was the fault of his furniture but pounding the springs did settle him somewhat.

The problem was that it was going to happen again. He was going to meet someone. They were going to resemble Jared in some way.‌ They would date, he would get to know them--he would see Jared instead of them when he got them face down, ass up on his bed, and further down the line, they would leave him for the same reason.

Jensen was done dating. He was done allowing people into his bed for more than just a roll in the sack. It wasn't worth it--not when he knew that they were never going to be it for him. The only person that Jensen truly wished to wake up to in the morning was Jared, and that wasn't going to happen, so he was left with no other choice but to die alone.

Shaking his head and almost screaming, Jensen forced himself to exit his bed, angrily stomping through his apartment to the bathroom to get himself cleaned up for the day. He still had to work, after all. Heartbreak was not an excuse for time off--even if that heartbreak may have had nothing to do with Landen at all.

===

After a month, things weren't much better than they had been when Landen first walked out on him. While it was true that Jensen was more or less mourning the loss of a close physical duplicate to Jared, he did come to enjoy Landen's company and was sad to see him go. Jensen hadn't wanted to start something with him from the word go, knowing that he would never be enough for him--he was far too enthralled by Jared to pay anyone else so much as a passing glance when he was in the same room as him. No one mattered to him if he was caught in his orbit. That was the truth of the situation, and there wasn't anything that he could do to escape that. Jensen had already come to terms with it long ago. Meeting Landen and trusting in someone else reminded him why dating and relationships only ended one way with him.

Even still, his hours at work felt far longer than they actually were. The coffee he got on the way at the local Starbucks tasted like crap. He lost his appetite more than once when he went out for lunch, resorting to passing the rest of it off to a couple of stray dogs he'd come to know. He barely responded to any of Jared's text messages, replying with one-liners, hoping that Jared would sense that he wasn't in the mood. But then, of course, Jared had to call to make sure that he was okay, making him feel worse than he already was.

None of it was Jared's fault. He recounted that every time he woke up in the morning. He was innocent in all of this, and he did not deserve Jensen's bullshit. So Jensen chose to lie to him as often as he could get away with it, despising himself each time an untruth left his lips, and Jared willingly took it at face value. He was awful, truly. He didn't deserve his warmth or words of compassion and efforts to make him feel better. If he wasn't as amazing of a person as he was, he would have ditched Jensen the moment that he had the chance to.

Jensen was poison, after all. Far too selfish to even beg Jared to stay away from him for his own good. It would have been the right thing to do, and he understood that fully. He just didn't have the strength--he wasn't a good enough person to block him out and let him get on with his life.

As the days went by, Jensen continued to detach himself. His colleagues didn't bother talking to him anymore, spreading rumours around the office about why he was in the state he was. He didn't care to know what they were saying about him. He tuned them out and got on with his job, something he was still more than capable of doing. As long as he was doing that, there wasn't a chance that his boss would suspend him.

Jensen was finishing up a project for work on his computer when his phone rang.

It was Jared.

Jensen stared at the name on the screen, his heart rate speeding up with each second it went unanswered. He ignored it and continued on with his task, trying to escape into his mind.‌ Guilt shot through him when it cut off, a sigh escaping him. He shook his head, cracking his fingers. He situated them above the keys, preparing to get back to work when his phone rang for the second time.

Jared's name flashed on the screen, again. Jensen's heart sank. He started to panic, thinking there might be something wrong with their parents; jaw tightening, stress lines appearing on his face. He would never forgive himself if something happened to them, and he didn't know about it because he refused to pick up his goddamn phone.

"Jayby, what's up?" Jensen answered, tone casual, disguising his worry well.

"Nothin' much. What're you up to?"

He frowned. "I've got a project to finish, Jay. I told you about it."‌

"Oh, man. Am I interrupting?" Jared questioned, guilt evident in his voice.

"No. No. I mean, um--I can spare a few minutes... _for you_."

"D'aww. That makes me feel so special," Jared jokes, sniffling to enhance his whimsy.

"Whatever.‌‌ You caught me in a good mood. So what's up?"‌

"I‌ wanted to hear your voice, Jen. I've missed your ass."‌

Jensen bit his lip, holding back the emotion creeping into his eyes. Jared couldn't see him through the phone, but he still felt as though he would know if he didn't.

"My ass misses you, too. It's been too long since I‌ gave you pink-eye,"‌ Jensen replied, laughing at the memory.

"That was so funny I forgot to laugh," Jared quips, feigning annoyance. "I can't believe you did that to me."‌

"It was picture day,"‌ Jensen said, by way of explanation.

He could hear Jared's knee-slap through the receiver. "You're damn right it was, and I was humiliated."

"Hey, come on... They let you wear sunglasses."

"You mean the ones you superglued to my face?"

"Guilty," Jensen agreed, snickering. "It was worth the hours I spent safely removing them.‌"

"I was supposed to go on a date that day, you ginormous ass."

Jensen scowled at the phone. He knew that. But it wasn't the reason he did it. Maybe a little, but _not_ the main one.

"I'm sure she could have learned to love a Beast," Jensen countered, waving it off as he got off his couch, feeling better than he had done in days. Jared was distracting him--somehow understanding that he was in a bad place and needed guiding out of it. That was just one of the reasons that he couldn't not be hopelessly in love with Jared. "Besides, even with your eyes covered, you still had all them wenches--I mean, _lovely_ ladies beating down our door."

"I guess. At least one of us got to have a nice graduation photo. Mamma never fails to get yours out when she has guests over, getting all teary-eyed as she gushes about how handsome you are…. She's not wrong, but I wish I sabotaged yours like you did mine."

"What are ya' talking 'bout? You looked hot... Before the pink-eye," Jensen corrected himself, biting the tip of his tongue as Jared huffed into the phone. "Dude, it was hilarious. You even told me you wished you thought of it."

"It was pretty funny. But then you'd probably still be smoking hot with pink-eye, you unbelievably gorgeous freak."

Jensen laughed merrily, reaching into his fridge for a bite to eat. He couldn't remember when he last had something to eat.

"Don't hate me 'cause you ain't me."‌

"Shut up,"‌ Jared rebuked, and Jensen swore he could hear the eyeroll. "But seriously... I really miss you, Jen. Are you sure you don't want me to come up and stay for a few days? People around your office have been sayin' you look like Hell."

Jensen said no.

===

Partway through the second month after Landen walked away, Jensen was getting antsy. It came on when he passed the BDSM club, wishing that he could go inside and release some of his grief on a willing submissive. He thought better of it, considering Landen frequented the place, then, with them not together anymore, which Jensen learnt from a mutual friend of theirs. Stepping in and coming face to face with him would only have had him feeling more guilty than he already was, given the truth behind Landen's exit.

Jensen wondered from time to time if he should have been straight with Landen, told him why it wouldn't have worked. What stopped him was imagining himself on the other side of that conversation, guestimating that he would have felt like shit afterwards. Landen didn't deserve to feel that way when he hadn't done anything wrong, to begin with. Jensen was the one causing all of the problems for everyone. He needed to figure out how to stop being such an interrupting cow.

So, the BDSM club wasn't an option for him. Jensen wished that things could have been different. If they were, he'd be able to divest himself of some of the tension weighing him down, seeming to grow in mass with each day that passed.

He felt it when he lifted a pen to sign for packages, right wrist protesting before he even reached his surname. During morning jogs, his legs burned and screamed for relief. Lifting his arms to catch the popping toast between spread fingers triggered a wince. Taking the steps when the elevator was full at work had Jensen hearing cracks in his ears each time rigid knees bent into the step. Even swiping right on his phone to answer a call triggered a sharp pain in his thumb joint.

It was fair to say that Jensen was unfamiliar with that feeling of needing an oil change; however, it fit the diagnosis. He thought about paying for a session with a masseur to iron out some creases but decided against it. In that situation, it would have been wiser to have a masseuse anyway, since he wasn't entirely confident that he wouldn't order the masseur to suck his dick when he was on his back, especially if he had been easy on the eyes, with longish brown hair and enriching hazel portals...

A disaster, he truly was.

The bottom line was that he didn't believe that he deserved one, so he opted not to. He would deal with his suffering silently and diligently. After all, he brought it on himself for agreeing the first time to suck Jared's beautiful cock in his kitchen, on that fateful birthday….

That was the truth of the matter. He couldn't have said for certain that he would have been any better off had he not jokingly suggested…. Nevertheless, Jensen surmised that there was a greater chance of him having the strength to just deal with it had he not. Deal with it and look beyond, keeping Jared in a place in his mind where he was just his stepbrother, and nothing else.

Even the thought of Jared being less made Jensen feel physically ill. When he so much as entertained the idea, he felt as though he was diminishing the relationship that they had with each other. At the end of it all, no matter what happened between them, that was the one thing that he never wanted to impact. For the moment, he found ways to maintain their usual level of intimacy and trust without adding on that extra bit of weight to it that would turn it into something more, for one for them.

Jared, as far as Jensen was aware, still had no clue that he had feelings for him. He assumed that he was just an open kind of soul, not really caring that the one sucking his dick was his older stepbrother or the guy down the street. Though, Jared did mention to him that he had never done anything with any other man. Despite that giving Jensen a victorious thrill, he devoted himself to not exploiting it.

For the entirety of the time that he knew Jared, he was positive, kind, caring, compassionate, put others first, broke up fights with words instead of violence, stuck up for the little person, and so many other amazing things that inundated Jensen with so much pride he felt it gushing out of his orifices. Gross, right? He thought so, too. The point was that he often wondered if Jared viewed sex as something less private than he did. Which wasn't a bad thing.‌ Jensen certainly wasn't going to impose his own views on him, though he would like to think that if they were together, Jared would treat their time in the bedroom or otherwise, as sacred. For the record, he wasn't a saint... By otherwise, he meant shoving Jared against an alleyway wall and dropping to his knees to blow him in front of God and everyone, or stopping in the middle of the road somewhere, switching off the car, man-handling him into the back seat and fucking him until his brown, wispy locks stuck to the window, breath steaming up the--

Jensen cut himself off mid-thought. He needed to stop obsessing over it, for it wasn't getting him anywhere. The one thing it did saddle him with was a throbbing boner that wasn't going away any time soon.

And then Jared called him.

"Baby come back…. Any kind of fool could see…. There was something in everything about you…."

Unless Jared had decided to serenade Jensen down the phone, the idiot must have pocket-dialled him. Unable to help it, a grin broke out on his face as he listened to him butcher _Player's 'Baby Come Back'_.

"Baby come back…. You can blame it all on me…. I was wrong, and I just can't live without you...."

Unsure as to whether or not he was going to laugh or sing along, Jensen opened his mouth to announce that he was on the other end of the phone.

"All day long, wearing a mask of false bravado...."

" _Holy shit_ ," Jared cursed, and shuffling could be heard in the background. "Jensen?"

"Right now I'm Beckett, apparently," he replied evenly, ignoring the swelling between his legs. "Did you seriously butt-dial me?"‌

"Uh... Yeah. Sorry, dude. You might wanna go and get your ears examined."

"I'm sure my perforated eardrum will survive for the next five minutes. How did you manage to butt-dial me?"‌

"Well, I was gonna call you actually--"

"After you finished preparing the song you were gonna sing to me. Right. Go on."‌

"Of course. This was all part of my master plan to win you over with my amazing vocal talents."

They both burst into laughter.

Jared inhaled sharply before continuing. "So I was gonna ask you if you wanted to come with me to a friends wedding. I only know my friend–honestly, I didn't wanna go at all, but he said it wasn't a party without me there or somethin'. So I agreed to it. Like an idiot. But, yeah, d'ya wanna come with me?"

"To make sure you don't get bored?"

"That's correct. You're also there to make me look hotter by comparison."‌

"Am I wearing a prosthetic mask at this wedding?" Jensen teased, face softening.

"Tell me how you really feel, why don't ya'?" Jared shot back, humour in his voice.

Jensen ignored the stabbing sensation in his heart.

"Do I have to wear a stupid tux?"

"Yes."‌

"I hate you."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do."

"No, you don't."‌

Jensen rolled his eyes. "I'm not wearing a tux."‌

"But you look so unbelievably hot in one, dude. My friend said there are some guys there that like a bit of big D. And I‌ know you've got a big D between those bow-legs of yours. "

If he wasn't a grown-ass man, Jensen would have definitely creamed his jeans.

"Fine, I'll wear a tux. But you have to wear a cocktail dress."

" _What_ _else_ are bridesmaids supposed to wear?" Jared replied with a faux huff.

God, he loved that man.

===

The wedding had done nothing but remind Jensen of something he was never going to have someday. Well, not with the person that he wanted to have it with. The person who ditched him ten minutes prior, leaving him to drink and scowl at anyone who made an effort to approach him. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone other than Jared. If he didn't think it would make him even worse, he would have considered calling one of his friends and gabbing about nothing. Or he could have left. _Pfft_. Yeah, as if he was ever going to leave Jared behind by himself.

Keep dreaming, Ackles.

Jensen had appreciated the moment of reprieve, whereby he didn't have to physically keep his jaw from hitting the floor every time he got a look at Jared in his tailored tux. He looked good enough to eat. Starter, main and dessert all wrapped up into one tantalizing creation, that others, _unfortunately_ , got to lay their eyes on. Short of murdering everyone there, Jensen had to live with it.

If he was to give the wedding a positive note, he would say that the cake was actually rather delicious. He wasn't sure if that was because he rarely ever had cake, to begin with. Unlike Jared, he had to work a lot harder to maintain his figure, and even _that_ wasn't cutting it anymore. He saw the bits of pudge in the mirror, wondering what happened to last year when he couldn't grab small folds between his fists.

Jared told him it made him more adorable if that was possible. Jensen verbally or physically slapped him every time. It wasn't as though he was bloating out or something. He would have labelled his belly to be soft. He supposed that was the build that he was dealt with. Not that he could really complain when he'd been told by practically everyone he had met that he was blessed. Even though he wasn't full of himself in the slightest, he assumed it would be more annoying to deny that he was good looking if that was what everyone else said.

Let's just say he wasn't going to wake up one day with abs and leave it at that. Unless he was willing to take more time to exercise and stuff, which he didn't have the time for.

Jensen sighed, setting down his latest drink. He would rather not be there anymore. Watching all those couples dance and laugh with each other made his heart cry out to be doing the same with the person that he loved. Dryly, he thought to himself that it had to be some kind of torture to put himself through that situation. Seeing two people commit to spending the rest of their lives together, hand shaking as he clapped for them, wishing he could take hold of the hand he wanted in his like he needed air to breathe…. It was hard. What was harder, was witnessing the joy in Jared's eyes for his friend.

He really was far too good for the world at large.

As far as Jensen could tell, Jared was somewhere within the same space as him, and he missed him. There was an empty pit in his stomach that wouldn't go away until he was by his side again, smiling so bright the sun started taking notes.

Just as he was about to go and look for him, Jared practically ran into his side, looking like he was on the run from the law.

Jensen frowned, arching one eyebrow.

"Hey _honey_ ," Jared said, communicating with his eyes for Jensen to go along with it.

Which he did, immediately pulling Jared against his side, nosing his neck and placing his hand at the small of his back. Don't judge him…. He was already punishing himself enough, knowing that the moment it was over, he would be that much deeper in the ever-increasing pile of shit that was his life.

Jensen kissed Jared's neck, staring at the woman who he must have been running from. A quick assessment told him that she wasn't his brothers' type at all, but he didn't have the heart to tell her to hit the road. That wasn't a problem for him. Jensen would have gladly told her to beat it.

"Are you okay, baby?" Jensen questioned, half pretending to be concerned as he turned Jared to face him, one hand secured at the nape of his neck. "Did ya' get tired dancin' your ass off?"

Jared nodded mutely, eyeing the woman. "Haha, yeah. You know me. Once a song starts, I'm just... _All_ over that. Please excuse us,"‌ he added, staying by Jensen's side until they were out of sight, where he broke the hold and laughed. "Damn, dude, you're always so good at that."

He wasn't pretending. _Not really_.

"You really need to work on rejecting people."

"But then we'd never spend time together," Jared joked with a shrug, pulling his shirt away from his skin. "Man, it's so hot, Jen."

For more than one reason.

"Your friend didn't know you sweat like a wildebeest, ey?"

Jared shook his head, undoing his bowtie. "No. I‌ was supposed to leave after they said ‘I do’, but you looked like you could do with a drink and a dance."‌

"So it's my fault you're a sweaty mess?"‌ Jensen asked, mock-offended as he tugged his jacket off and flapped it like a fan. "I want a divorce."‌

"Be my guest. It's not like we consummated the marriage or whatever."‌

Jensen nearly bit his tongue off.

He scoffed, increasing his efforts. "Who's fault is that?

"You were supposed to woo me. I wanted a romantic story to tell the kids someday,"‌ Jared countered weakly, too focused on the wind flapping in his face.

"Uh-huh. Are you done?"‌

Jared shook his head. "No. Don't stop. Please."

If anyone could tell him how he could have avoided getting hard from that, he would have written them a cheque.

When Jared had cooled down enough for them to return, Jensen put his arm around his slim middle, having taken note of the girl, from before, sneaking glances at them. Jared must have noticed at the same point, as he made no move to separate them, even going so far as to lean more of his weight onto him. Jensen welcomed it with metaphorical open arms, demanding with his eyes for anyone on their direct path to move out of the way. It was a trick that he learnt from one of his friends, called _parting the red sea_ , which was _not_ meant to be used as a period joke, _Chris_.

An hour in with the girl keeping tabs on them, Jensen had the urge to send her a thank you basket of muffins. He planned to berate himself later that night for basking in the reality that he was practically treating Jared like he was his partner, but something about it had felt anything other than wrong to him. The way Jared stayed close to his side while he spoke to random strangers, making up stories about how they met brought more than one smile to his face. Jensen particularly enjoyed the rendition that had them both getting lost in the same forest, where they had to learn to survive to feed themselves. He told those gullible fools that he bit the head off a snake. How he managed it with a straight face, Jensen would never know.

Jensen wasn’t sure if Jared knew that he was slowly killing him in the best of ways, sitting in his lap and actively bringing his arms around him, where he held them by the wrists. The amount of vomit-inducing material Jensen had to sift through in his head to prevent tearing through both their pants and slotting his cock right into Jared’s body, was ridiculous.

“Jen is so sweet, y’all have no idea,” Jared embellished to a trio of wedding attendees, who seemed far too interested in their pretend love life. “When I get sick, I can’t lift my head to stretch my neck out before he’s there fluffing my pillows and asking me if I‌ need anything.”‌

The embellished part was that it was in a setting where they were together, but the words themselves had been accurate. Jensen was often accused of being a Mother Hen when Jared was ill, and he couldn’t say that he was wrong. Although the reverse was very much the same result, so he had no complaints. He knew that it was odd, the lengths that they went to for the others health and well-being. Not that regular, platonic brothers/or stepbrothers shouldn’t want to care for their sibling/step-sibling–Jensen had yet to see anyone else that cared as much as they did for each other.

Jensen had wanted Jared to be with him when he wasn’t feeling well.‌ _Jared_ had wanted _Jensen_ to be with him when he wasn’t feeling well. That was how it went for them when they were kids.‌ Their Mom would ask them what they needed, and they would both say the other's name. At least, in his case, when he was feeling like death warmed up, possibly about to die, he wanted Jared to be there with him in his final moments. No offence to his Father, of course. Even as young boys, that was what he wanted–eight-year-old Jared sat by his bed when he was fourteen and experiencing one of the worst fevers that he would ever suffer in his lifetime. It had been horrible, but having Jared with him for the ride made it suck less.

All good things must come to an end. Once Jared’s little stalker had stopped checking up on them, his brother sighed with relief and went back to being regular Jared, no longer his pretend partner who met him while sky-diving through the air, and waited 'til the fall to ask him for a drink.

Jensen shook his head. He asked for it when he agreed to come along with him, and when he didn’t just firmly tell Jared to turn the girl down.

Oh well. Hindsight, and all that.

===

Jensen stared at the photo of him and Jared at the wedding of the guy that he still couldn’t remember the name of. With the tux on, it was almost as if they were posing for their wedding photo. Whenever the thought crossed his mind, Jensen snorted derisively, ignoring the ache in his chest. Jared looked utterly stunning in the picture, all dimples and smile giving babies a run for their money, arm slung over Jensen’s shoulder, practically cheek to cheek. If he squinted, they were, and their hips were touching along with their thighs and shoulders.

He hated how desperate he sounded, even to himself. Why didn't he tear the photo up the moment he opened the letter posted to him from Jared? Oh, right.‌ It was Jared, and he could never bring himself to destroy anything he gave him.

_Don’t we look dashing?‌_

That was the caption on the back of the photo. Jensen didn’t pay much attention to how he looked, far too enamoured with Jared’s ethereal beauty staring back at him.

Jensen had a lot of photos of Jared. While he didn’t have a damn shrine filled to the brim with his face and curls of his hair, the scrapbook he had was a near second to that.

He yawned openly, stretching his arms above his head, wondering if he was going to be able to sleep more than a couple of hours that night. Jensen’s coworkers didn’t need to point in his direction and mutter under their breaths for him to realise that he appeared to be close to death by that point.

The wedding hadn’t helped his situation. But then, he probably deserved the added misery.

When was it going to sink in for him that he was never going to have what he wanted most in life, and that he should just cut his losses and move to a different country?‌ Just start over and make something else of himself–somewhere he wouldn’t have to come face to face with Jared again, for he knew that if he happened to spot him, Jensen's resolve would break instantaneously and he would be on the first flight back with him to Texas, no questions asked.

It was a moot point. Jensen couldn’t bring himself to do something that would ultimately be good for Jared if it meant having to actually get away from him.

He wondered if it might have been worth waiting for the day that Jared inevitably got married to some girl. Not only would it have been another nail in his coffin, but it would also be the push that he needed to get out of dodge and stop interfering with Jared’s life. Jensen would miss the sunshine, but he was sure that with enough alcohol in his system night after night, he could have brought himself just shy of slightly being able to forget about him.

On the other hand, Jensen wasn’t certain at all, and believed, that instead, the longing would be just as intense even if he relocated to a different planet that manifested a barricade against the pull of love. Disgusting, right? Jensen agreed all too willingly. If he didn’t know that he was a human being, he would have been hard-pressed not to entertain the idea that he was transported from a faraway section of the universe, that was best known for not having the smarts to cut their losses when they knew they were fighting an uphill battle, and the opposing side was seventy-feet tall and weighed ten metric tons.

Jensen didn’t move to switch off the television once the credits rolled for the movie he wasn’t even watching. The plot may have been about a bank heist gone wrong, where one of the victims turned it around on the perpetrators, but he was far too gone into his own head, that that could just as easily have been a dream he had at some point in his life, dredging itself up to be background interference to his foolhardy musings about a man that he will never have, while holding a picture of said man side-eyeing him like he discovered electricity.

That wasn’t a secret between them, either. Jared had looked up to him soon after they came into each other’s lives, and he wasn’t shy about gushing about him in his book reports. Jensen liked that he managed to cement himself in Jared’s life, even then, but it had made him wonder growing up if there was anything that he could have done at the time to stop it from developing. He wondered if he had kept his distance, pushed Jared away at every opportunity that presented itself, would he be feeling the way that he did, then? Would it have even changed a single thing, when Jensen was convinced, at that point, that if Jared were to come to him and tell him that he massacred a group of eight people, Jensen’s response would be _‘_ _I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry, Jayby. I won’t let them take you away from me.’_?

The worst part of that was that he didn’t even think he would be horrified by the admission.

Because… _Jared_.

Jared was the one thing keeping him tethered to the Earth. Jensen knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would follow him into that final sleep without hesitation. Whatever method he would have had to use to join him on the other side, he would have sought it out, got it over and done with, no regrets.

The longer he stared at the photo, the more he sank into his couch. He couldn’t feel his legs anymore, and he didn’t know there was a single tear descending his face, falling off his cheek onto the photo. It blurred Jared’s sunshine face for a single moment before Jensen’s thumb swiped it away, and then cleared his own eyes, swallowing the lump in his throat.

And then Jared called him.

He shouldn’t have picked up. Jensen knew that, even as he stretched uncomfortably to grab his phone, lower back protesting. It wasn’t until the eighth ring that Jensen answered it, clearing his eyes and stabilizing himself so that he didn’t give himself away.

“Tech Support. This is Jensen. How may I help you today?”

If there was a croak in his voice, they ignored it.

“Tech Support? Babe, you have to be _this_ young to understand the first thing about technology, you Dinosaur.”

“Are you calling me a fossil?”

“I didn’t say it,” Jared teased, and his laugh was so cheeky and beautiful that Jensen’s lungs screamed at him to draw in a breath. “This would be more effective if you had wrinkles.”

“I’m twenty-nine, you cheeky bastard.”

Jared snorted. “That’s practically ancient.”

Muting a sniffle with a clearing of his throat, Jensen braced his elbows on his knees. “And yet you still can’t beat me at the four-hundred meters.”

“That was a decade ago,” Jared challenged. “Do you wanna go, old man? I’m finished for the day.”

Jensen bit his bottom lip, shaking his head to the room only. “I can’t.”

The tone of Jared’s voice softened. “Can’t? Are you okay?”

“‘m fine.” He lied.

“I’m coming over.”

“What?”

Jared sounded determined. “I’m coming over. Wait there, and don’t move.”

“No, Jayby, it’s--hello? _Damn it_.”

Jensen shouldn’t have been surprised. Not really. If the roles had been reversed, and he had heard a pained inflexion in Jared’s voice, he would have been out of the door before he had a chance to lie to him about it.

When Jared set his mind on something, there wasn’t much that he could do to talk him out of it, so Jensen knew that he was on his way over. He sniffed himself and his face revolted at the smell, deciding then and there that he would have to have a quick shower, or Jared would more than likely panic that he was on Death’s door or something along those lines.

It took more energy than he had to get himself off the couch, but when he did, he was able to drag his feet to the shower room, washing up in record time. With the towel around his waist, he pottered about, giving his place a bit of a clean. He honestly had no idea when the last time was that he actually got some cleaning done, since Landen handled most of it during their time together. It made sense to them, with Jensen going out and working each day, and Landen being at home with nothing to do, he was more than happy to keep the place tidy in his absence.

Jensen tossed dirty clothes in the hamper, loaded the dishwasher and ran the hoover around the house. He wasn’t sure when Jared was going to turn up, but he figured he had enough time to ensure his place was half presentable. Part of him was doing it so that Jared’s suspicions weren’t furthered by the upheaval. The other part of him was doing it for the sheer fact that his instincts told him it would make him look better in front of the person he longed to be with.

By the time he was finished, his body had dried itself. Jensen pulled the towel off and moved to his bedroom to put on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. He padded back to his living room and waited for the knock on the door, flipping through random channels.

The knock came twenty minutes later, capturing his attention instantly.

Jensen almost dove off his couch to get to the door, resisting the urge to check his hair in the mirror before opening it. It was not a date. It was Jared. He wasn’t going to notice something like that.

“Hey, Jayby--”

Jared pushed through the door and threw his arms around him, crushing him against his body. His chin rested on Jensen’s shoulder while his fingers curled into the shirt at his back. A lot of time passed with the two of them in that embrace, Jensen faux-reluctantly mimicking him a few moments into it, grip so tight they stumbled.

“Liar,” Jared accused, pulling back to lock their eyes. “ _Liar_.”

Jensen turned his head away in shame, not wanting Jared to see him so vulnerable. Jared gripped the back of his head and pulled him down on his chest, swaying them from side to side as he scraped his fingers at the nape of Jensens’ neck, thumb sweeping over the soft tufts of hair.

Why was it that the person that was indirectly the cause of his misery was the only person that could make him feel better? Jensen just wanted the world to make sense.

“What happened?” Jared asked calmly, angling his head down to kiss Jensen’s temple. That wasn’t helping matters at all. “Come on, you can tell me anything, Jen. You know that.”

There wasn’t a chance that he could lie to him. Not with him being that close to him. It just wasn’t going to happen--at least, he wouldn’t have been able to do it convincingly, even to himself.

He would have to settle for omitting the truth.

“Landen.”

Jared stilled for a second, body so rigid he felt a sting in his nose. “What about _Landen_?”

“I, uh, miss him. He was my last shot, y’know?”

“Dude, you’re hotter than the Greek Gods. There’s not a doubt in my mind that _Landen_ isn’t your last shot.”

Jensen’s hand dropped to Jared’s hip. _Shit_. Jared didn’t react, so he continued. His hair brushed Jared’s chin as he inclined his head back, lips millimetres apart before he recoiled a touch.

“ _He was_ ,” Jensen said, no room for argument. The person in front of him was the only shot he ever wanted to take.

“Then we’re gonna have to change that line of thinking,” Jared stated with finality, pressing a light kiss to Jensen’s forehead. “Come on, I’ll make your favorite, and we can talk about how worse off he is without you now.”

Jensen didn’t make any move to agree or disagree. He simply watched on as Jared left the embrace, taking a piece of his soul with him. Jared moved to the kitchen, the one where Jensen blew him to orgasm in nearly six years before. The nostalgia wasn’t lost on him as he followed, eyes refusing to not take in the stretch of Jared’s jeans over his bubbly ass. It wasn’t as if he had any control over himself at the best of times at that point, so he wasn’t even phased.

As Jared intoned, they ate Jensen’s favourite home-cooked meal, and Jared made up stories about how much of a terrible person Landen was. None of it was right, and Jensen corrected him in his mind because the man didn’t deserve to be lowered to a reincarnation of Hitler, but he understood that Jared didn’t believe what he was saying either.

“What kind of a name is _Landen_ anyway? It’s like ‘we’re crash _Lan-den_ ’.”

Jensen’s throat was tight with the effort to not laugh out loud at that. “You’ve been holdin’ on to that one, right?”

Jared nodded proudly, puffing out his chest. “I was just waiting for the right time.”

“You nailed it, Jayby,” Jensen admitted with a raise of his bottle. He didn’t take a sip-didn’t want to. Alcohol would have complicated things, fast. “Thanks for coming over.”

The look he received was one that said there were no thanks necessary as a hand settled on his knee and squeezed.

It just made him love the man more, and he wasn’t sure if his heart could put up with it much longer.

===

Six months after Jensen and Landen parted ways, he was no closer to finding his way back to his usual self than he was at the start. In fact, he may have reached a point where he didn’t even want to leave his house. It was, essentially, his commitment to his job that got him to the office five days of the week. He felt five times his actual weight. He didn’t want to shower. He didn’t want to get out of bed most days. The only thing he wanted was the one thing that he couldn’t have, a face that stared at him when he rolled over to the right side of the bed, the side table mocking him with a megawatt smile and a setting he wouldn’t see again in his lifetime.

Jensen needed to do something. He was going to lose his mind entirely if he didn’t get out his frustrations, but the club was still off-limits to him. Well, personally. Landen hadn’t issued some kind of decree that he would not be welcome at the club, and he’d even received more than one message saying he was missed. Jensen ignored those messages like an itch he couldn’t scratch. The temptation that came along with them was all too strong. Jensen was a man of honour, and regardless of his lack of actual emotional feelings for Landen, he was more than willing to respect the man’s wishes, since he had revealed to Jensen that it would have been difficult to come face to face with him again without getting upset.

Still, Jensen was in dire need of some release. He needed someone that he could bend to his will, have them literally eating out of the palm of his hand if that was what he was feeling in the moment. The trouble was how to go about getting that. There was the idea that he had had not long ago of paying for an online service to come to his house, but he wasn’t comfortable with giving out his information to organisations like those. Many stories surfaced about meetings of those natures going awry, and he was not prepared to be another headline; not as the one that ended up dead or grifted or the one that turned the tables and landed himself a murder charge. Whichever way that hypothetical went down wouldn’t have been good for him.

Back to the matter. Jensen was chomping at the bit, falling into himself day by day, and soon he was scared that there would be nothing left of the genuine article. He had to do something about his urges. His hands stopped cutting it a long time ago, and porn never even touched the sides.

The other week, Jensen nearly chewed the head off a Barista for getting his coffee order wrong. As soon as he had calmed down and realised what he was doing, he mumbled a quick apology and left with his tail between his legs, hoping that his folks didn’t somehow know what he had just done.

Case and point, Jensen was raised right. Never before then had he given a worker shit for a simple, impersonal mistake. His parents would have been so disappointed with him. Probably more so than he was with himself.

On top of that, someone had the audacity to barge past Jared on the street. Before Jensen knew what was happening, his hands were fiercely clenched in the collar of the man’s shirt and his arms were screaming from the strain he was putting on them, pressing the struggling man so hard to the wall that he hunched his shoulders in an effort to retreat. Jensen didn’t let him, slamming him on the blunt surface three times, eyes burning with anger and teeth gritted so hard his jaw ached from the force. He had snarled at the man, raging at him to watch where he was going. Just before he was able to lay into him, Jared managed to break through the haze and pried him away, breathing ragged--chest heaving as he took in air, forehead beading from exertion. Jensen didn’t know what it took to force him away from that ignorant douchebag, but Jared had a hard time getting the words out when it was over.

He remembered Jared asking what the Hell that had all been about while gesturing with his head for the startled man to make a break for it. Jensen hadn’t been so keen on letting him walk away, but Jared’s guiding hand led him away from the scene before he could cause any more upset. Jensen hadn’t known what to tell him.

Violence never used to be the first thing to come to his mind. Funny how things changed. Jensen didn’t have the luxury of remaining rational when Jared was concerned. He realised that all too well after that encounter, careful not to end up in those types of situations from that point onward. Fortunately, no one entered Jared’s personal space around Jensen after that. Whether that was due to his warning eyes was neither here nor there.

Jensen finished cleaning up in the bathroom and pulled his sweats and briefs back up over his ass. He flushed the toilet, thoroughly washed his hands and dried them off on a towel. Couldn’t even switch his brain off while having a shit. Figured.

Distantly, he was aware that he was hungry and should probably eat something. He just didn’t have it in him to whip something up. Even the thought of expending more effort than it would take to sprawl out on his couch had his body seizing up. So, he ignored his stomach, dropping like a rock onto the couch. He vaguely registered that it still had yet to give the same familiar sensation of coming home as Jared’s had.

Just as he was contemplating a drinking game that consisted of taking a shot each time he thought about Jared, and how royally sloshed he would be after ten minutes of playtime, Jensen heard a knock on his door. He groaned internally, wondering if he stayed still enough the person on the other side of the door would get the hint and go away. He really wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone that day. Well, almost anyone.

“Jen? You there? Come on, man, I can smell you from here.”

He shouldn’t have been able to. Jensen showered that day.

Knocking persisted for more than a minute, with Jared’s raps getting more desperate as time went on, the pitch of his voice growing in worry.

“Jen… Jen, open up. Please. I can’t help you from behind the door. And if it turns out you’re not actually there, I owe an apology to your neighbors. Come on, dude.”

It was when Jared threatened to kick the door down that Jensen got up to answer it, not equipped with a lie good enough to satiate his brother. Seeing Jared, then, was not the greatest idea--not when he felt as though he was one shift in the wind from snapping.

“Finally,” Jared said gratefully, pushing past him before he had a chance to keep him on the outside. “Were you asleep? You look like Hell.”

“That’s just my normal face,” Jensen joked weakly, legs about ready to collapse.

Jared encouraged him to move toward the couch, one hand lingering just out of reach of his lower back the whole time as he harped on about then not being the best time to try out for the all-grown-up version of Casper. Jensen would have laughed if he was the slightest bit in the mood. It hurt that he couldn’t even offer Jared a courtesy one. Added on to that, his brother expressed his fears that he was going to lose his job, clearly to take the spotlight off of him, which Jensen was actually grateful for.

“It feels like they’re edging me out, man. I don’t know why, but I just have this idea in my head that I’m replaceable to them.”

Jensen wanted to tell him that not a single soul on the Earth could replace him.

“I guess you’ll have to stop slacking off then,” Jensen intoned, going so far as to perch on the arm of the couch so that their knees couldn’t touch. It apparently didn’t stop Jared from sitting as close to him as humanly possible, however. “The _rest_ of the couch isn’t good enough for you?”

“Shut up. I need close proximity right now. I’m about to lose my job,” Jared whined, crossing his wrists around Jensen’s forearm. He rested his head on Jensen’s elbow, spreading his legs as far as they would go. Jensen didn’t want to imagine why, but he did anyway. “Can’t I come and be your assistant or something? I know your coffee order,” he added with a laugh and a bat of his lashes.

Jensen clenched his fists on his lap and shook his head. “I don’t get an assistant,” he replied. It wasn’t a lie. Even if he could have one, that would be the worst idea in the history of ideas. “And, you’re mistaken. I know _your_ coffee order.”

“Well, excuse me, Mr Perfect,” Jared griped, turning his nose up. “Do you know how hard it is to remember….”

“Black, hold the cream, one pump caramel?” Jensen supplied, rolling his eyes at Jared’s indignant look. “It’s not my fault you don’t listen.”

“Hey. I agreed to marry you, not listen to a word you have to say,” Jared teased, poking him in the side. Jensen spent the next minute recovering from the insinuation. “It’s ‘til death do us part, _not_ heed my words.”

“Uh-huh,” Jensen muttered, tone noncommittal as he removed himself from the situation. He needed to put space between them. As much as he hated himself for it, he didn’t know if he could check himself in that state. But, of course, Jared had to follow him like a lost puppy, nipping at his heels. Or, in that case, draping an arm around his shoulders and tucking him against his side. “Jared, I need you to leave,” Jensen heard himself say, throat burning.

Jared tensed beside him, good mood deflating out of the corner of Jensen’s eye. He couldn’t bring himself to look. All he could do was register the added pressure on his ribs as Jared sagged against him before recovering. The damage was already done by that point. Jensen heard it in the tightness of Jared’s voice as he told him he couldn’t get rid of him that easily. Felt it as the flesh touching his own lowered in temperature. It made no sense. Jared was never cold.

“You can’t be here right now,” Jensen insisted, extricating himself from the slackened hold. He put space between them, words almost pleading. “I know I sound crazy, and I don’t want to upset you, but I need you to leave and not ask me why.”

“I don’t…. Jen, what’s wrong? You told me I _wasn’t_ the problem. You said—”

“You’re _not_ the problem. Just trust me on this.”

Jared’s lips set in defiance. “You’ve never, _ever_ told me to leave. Do you expect me to just take that with a pinch of salt and escort my ass out of here?” Clearly, getting Jared to get as far away from him as possible wasn’t going to be so easy.

Gritting his teeth out of sight, Jensen kept his voice strict as he replied. “I _expect_ you to do as you’re fucking _told_.”

Jensen hadn’t meant for those words to come out of his mouth. He was planning on pulling something out of his ass that would have been able to placate his brother, maybe even get him to turn tail on his own terms. Where that tone reared up from, Jensen had no clue.

Chancing a glance over his shoulder and hoping not to see hurt and betrayal, Jensen frowned when he saw Jared standing there, arms by his side, posture portraying that he was waiting for whatever it was he was to be told to do. Jensen didn’t know how to deal with that. He needed to be on the other side of the planet yesterday. There wasn’t a chance that it was going to end well for him.

“ _Well_?” Jared challenged, nibbling his bottom lip. “I’m waiting.”

“I told you to leave. _Get out_.”

“I’ll do anything but that,” Jared rebuffed, jaw cementing the truth of that statement. “If this is what you need, I’ll be your damn bitch if that’s what it takes. I’ll do anything to get you out of this rut.”

“Jared, you don’t know what you’re asking for,” Jensen warned, muscles in his face twitching with each breath shared in the same space.

“ _I’m_ not the one making demands.”

Swallowing reflexively, Jensen squared his shoulders and strode towards the exit. “I’ll leave then.”

“Jensen.”

The desperation stopped him in his tracks. He couldn’t move even if he wanted to.

“I’m no good for you right now. I can’t do this to you— _not again_. I can’t.” Jensen already broke that promise once, he would not break it again.

“Please stop making it about me, for _once_! Think about you.”

Jensen shook his head hard enough to trigger a crick in his neck.

“No. I can’t do that to you—”

“Do what? It’s _always_ about me with you. Why doesn’t it matter what you want? What if I want _you_ to focus on what _you_ want?”

“Trust me. You don’t want to know what I want,” Jensen snapped, rounding on him. Rationally, he understood that Jared wasn’t intentionally trying to make his life difficult. In the end, he couldn’t give him what he wanted, and that was fine. Jensen had already resigned himself to that fact that he would go the rest of his life longing for the wrong thing. Jared wasn’t his to have by his side, and while that was a tough pill to swallow, one that had him virtually choking on an invisible force, he long ago accepted it for what it was. What he had for his stepbrother was a sick fascination that would one day be the root cause of the inevitable rift that severed their, once thought of as unbreakable, tie. “I’m fucked up, all right? Do yourself a favor and get away while you still can. _From_ _me_.”

Jared glared at him.

“ _Not. Happening_ ,” he gritted, tugging his shirt over his head.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting naked.”

Jensen swallowed. “I can see that. Why?”

“That’s how this works, isn’t it?” Jared replied, anger at Jensen’s earlier words laced within the magnanimous stubborn lilt to his voice. Jensen could tell that he meant business, could see that Jared wasn’t backing down no matter what he said next. Short of throwing him out of his house, he couldn’t dredge up a plan that would have detached him from the situation that didn’t end in heartbreak, on both sides. Being the direct cause of his own pain, Jensen could handle. Doing the same to Jared was not an option. When Jared had peeled out of all of his clothes, he stared on expectantly. “So? How do you want me?”

“Sunnyside up,” Jensen jested, refusing to take in every detail of Jared’s even more glorious body. Since the last time, he had filled out deliciously. Not that Jensen hadn’t been able to deduce that from the stretch of his clothing. But seeing it in person practically knocked him for six. God, he wanted to lick every strip…. “Get _dressed_ and get _out_.”

“I told you. Not happening. Anything else, I will do willingly. But I am not leaving. I am _not_ leaving you.”

The only part of him that was holding on to his self-control, as delicate as it was, was the ever-present fear that regardless of the words that Jared was saying to him, there was a chance that when it was all over, he would never see him again. Although increasingly more challenging to maintain, that was the one thing that steeled his resolve and had him pushing harder for Jared to leave.

“Get… _Out!_ ”

“ _Make me_ ,” Jared dared him, apparently hell-bent on breaking down all of his walls.

“I _can’t_ ,” Jensen replied, disgusted with the fragility in his voice.

Jared locked onto it instantly, eyes softening. “You’re not a monster, dude. What you like to do to people isn’t, I guess, _normal_ …. But you’re not eating them or killing anyone, so it’s not a big deal.” From his vantage point, Jensen could see that Jared was putting on a brave face, when, really, he was nervous for what could come.

Jensen chose to not to correct him about what he was referring to when he revealed that he was fucked up. If Jared wanted to assume it was his fetishes he was feeling guilty about, that was his prerogative. Maybe if he kept up the illusion that he wasn’t thirsting after even the smallest bead of sweat skimming down Jared’s forehead, just waiting for his tongue to lap it up, they would be fine, and Jared wouldn’t abandon him—wouldn’t realise what a disgusting excuse for a person he was for fantasising about branding him with his name and mark. Jared wouldn’t feel bile crawling up his throat when he found out Jensen often wondered if he could keep him locked up in a cage so that the rest of the world wouldn’t get to see him. Only Jensen would have the luxury of gazing at the perfection that was his stepbrother. Those dimples weren’t meant to be admired by others. Those mile-long legs weren’t meant to be ogled by clueless wannabes thinking that they had a chance at having them wrapped around their waist one night. He raged internally at the mere thought…. Then he saw those same legs crossing as they carried Jared’s body further away from his step by step, closing the book on their chapter for eternity.

“Why are you doing this, Jared?” Jensen questioned, not even sure if Jared heard him.

“Because I love you, and I’m sick of seeing you hurting. I’m always the one calling you now. I’m always the one texting you. I’m always the one feeding back to our folks. So, like I said, if this is what you need to do to get your head back in the game and get over _Landen_ , then have at it.”

Jared had no idea. None at all. _His words_ …. Jensen felt his cock groan in agony inside his pants. He couldn’t blame it. And he couldn’t hide it either. Between intervals, Jared had been casting surreptitious glances down at the outline of his cock. Jensen wasn’t going to tell him that he had been caught. He wasn’t entirely convinced that he would be able to get the words out of his mouth, lips set tight to hold back the desire to lick them at the visual of all that nude flesh, proudly on display for Jensen’s viewing pleasure.

And then there was the helplessness in that tone that metaphorically brought him to his knees. He hated that he was the cause of that. All he wanted was to scream at his past self for ever allowing it to come to that point, where Jared was suffering day after day, knowing that he wasn’t able to fix it. _Fix him_. Jensen didn’t have an issue understanding how that felt. Some part of him was unconsciously aware that Jared would stop at nothing to make him feel better. It was just what they did.

But Jensen couldn’t ask Jared to do that.

“Jayby... _Please_. It’s not a good idea. You _don’t_ want this.”

“Maybe it’s not something that I’ve ever thought about doing... But I liked what you did to me before,” Jared paused, rubbing a hand down his face, cheeks glowing. “I mean…. I’ve always liked being directed.”

Jensen closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose, fists shaking by his sides. “That was _different_ ,” he bit out.

“Why? Because _I_ asked for it?”

“ _Yes_.”

“Well, I’m asking now, “ Jared spoke softly, lessening the gap between them. “Come on…. Where’s the Christian Grey hiding beneath the surface?”

The internal demands for him to start backing away got lost by the wayside, content to trap him in place instead. He wasn’t surprised by the betrayal, body coming to life as Jared drew closer, dimples cutting into his cheeks and eyes shining with unabashed love for him. They were eyes that said he felt safe in his company when he should have felt anything but at that point. Jensen wanted the ground to break apart and widen the distance between them, relocating him to the other side of the globe. Just anywhere that wasn’t where he was then.

No matter how he pleaded with himself to move away, he was powerless to do anything. Jared stopped in front of him, dipping his form to appear smaller as he stared into Jensen’s eyes, passing a silent message across that he was his to use, which had Jensen reeling. It wasn’t good for him to be picking up on those hidden messages, not when he was getting closer and closer to just letting go.

“How do you want me, _Sir_?”‌ Jared was trying to sound coy and sexy, but Jensen could hear the tension in his voice. He was worried that he wasn't going to be good enough, and that added on another layer of guilt to the evergrowing pile amassing in his conscience. “Am I supposed to be like a bad boy or something, and you’re punishing me?”‌

“Fuck,”‌ Jensen cussed, swallowing so hard his throat throbbed.‌ “ _Stop_ talking.”‌

“Oh, _right_. You like me to be silent,”‌ Jared teased, arching one brow and quirking his lips. “What if I wanna be a little rebellious?”‌

“Please leave.”

“No.”‌

“Jay….”

Jensen focused his gaze on the wine stain marring his carpet. Landen liked wine.

“Jen….”

He also liked badminton or something. And animals. Lots of animals. Said he wanted to have a farm of just dogs or something. Yeah. That.

“You’re my brother.”‌

“I already told you my opinion on that.” Jared reminded him, spinning on his heel. Jensen breathed harsher, promising his cock he would let a Shark bite it off if it sweet-talked his eyes into flicking over to Jared’s rear.

Landen liked…. What else?‌ Hats. Fedoras. Yeah. He liked fedoras. Said he wanted to see Jensen in a cowboy hat because Texas. Mhm. Yeah. That. Focus on that.   
  
Jensen let out a tortured sound when Jared pressed his ass flush against his crotch.

“Wow. You’re so hard,” Jared commented casually, and Jensen about lost two-thirds of his brain cells.

Landen had a darker sense of humour than most. Black comedies were his thing. Liked babies. Wanted some one day. Wanted a cat named Mittens, too. Or Snowball. Whatever generic cat name was on the market.

“That felt like a bad porno moment,” Jared admitted, laughing at his own words.‌ “It’s like when the dude says ‘ _Relax, I’m a Doctor’_.”

Landen once farted during sex and got really embarrassed. Jensen had wanted to laugh because the sound was funny, but he tried to play it off like nothing happened. He laughed about it now. He would laugh if Jared wasn’t rubbing his ass on him and saying stupidly sexy shit.

“So I guess I‌ should be askin’, ‘ _How do you want me, Dr Ackles?’_ Ugh. That wasn't sexy at all….”

He should have gotten new carpets. The stain won’t come out no matter what he does, and he can’t be bothered to do anything. Maybe he’ll go tomorrow and get some. Lay it and stuff the next day. Yeah. He can do that. It would have been good to do something with his hands.

“Or maybe you’re my boss?‌ ‘ _The filing is all done, Mr Ackles. Do you need me to do_ anything else _for you’?’_ Hahaha. And then you say ‘ _Yeah, bend over my desk’,”_ Jared suggested, curling one arm around the back of Jensen’s neck as he rolled his hips. Jensen bled from his bottom lip. “Or are you a police officer and I‌ was over the speed limit?‌ _‘What can I do to get out of this ticket,_ Officer Ackles? _I don’t have any money, but you can use my body.”_

“Jared…. _Please_ shut up.”‌

Jared stilled for a second. “I know I’m probably not what you normally go for at the club, but you can just think of me as someone else. Hey, if it's _that_ bad, I’ll put a paper bag over my head and–”

Twisting and shoving Jared to the ground on his back wasn’t part of the plan, but there they were. Jensen gripped Jared’s hair in his fist and squeezed his hand until he felt the pull. Beneath him, Jared arched up off the floor, panting out a breath and attempting to draw closer to Jensen’s body.

“Stay still,”‌ Jensen demanded, pressing his weight on top of him. “You want me to let go, huh? You want me to treat you like some slave?”

“Yes.”‌

Jensen shook his head and stood up. It wasn’t right. He couldn’t do it.

Jared joined him on his feet in a flash, hand disappearing into his sweats and taking hold of his cock before he knew what was happening.‌ “Let me help you,”‌ he said, the altruistic presence in his voice hitting Jensen with a blend of pride and awe.

“Let go.”‌

Shaking his head, Jared cupped Jensen’s face with his free hand, refusing to let him look away from him. “ _You_ let go. Take what you want–what you need. _Use me._ I need to make you feel better– _please.”_

Jared was so close. Too close. Jensen could feel every part of him connecting them somewhere, almost. The desperation was not lost on him. He could tell that Jared was willing to do practically anything to make the problem go away. But the issue was that he didn’t realise that, indirectly, he was the problem, and giving in to that sinful desire would ultimately lead him that one step closer to fully breaking apart when he woke up the next day, and it was all for nought. The more Jensen allowed himself to be in those situations, the more vulnerable he was.

He didn’t want to risk making things any more awkward than they already were between them. Jared never recognised it, but it was still there, lingering in the background like a fly on the wall. Jensen heard the buzzing more than once, not sure if it was his own ears or the blood pumping too fast and loud through his system, spurred on by the temptress that plagued his fantasies day after day, and night after night.

Jared, the vixen, was naked, in front of him, staring at him with an expression that held not even the slightest bit of doubt for his actions, or his trust in the man that he looked up to. Jensen didn’t want to betray that trust. He didn’t want to put a greater distance between them than the one that already existed due to his own weakness.

But he could feel his control slipping. His body was thrumming with the need to take what Jared was offering to him, fingers clenching and unclenching, gripped with a hunger to come around and dig into the meatiest parts of Jared’s ass. Jensen had denied them for too long, and they weren’t willing to be silent any longer.

Jared’s hand was trying to find a rhythm on his cock. It wasn’t happening. The merest touch was enough to have Jensen in some type of state, anyway. His jaw ached from the tension he had it under. Too much. It was all too much.

“Jen….” Jared breathed against his lips, and the word held a ridiculous amount of unspoken words all intermingled into that one syllable. It took Jensen’s breath away, lips vibrating with the longing to ascent, to take charge and do what he so desperately wanted to do. But he stayed still. He clung to that promise that he made to himself, and to Jared. “Jensen…,” Jared repeated, relinquishing his hold on his cock to cup his other cheek, chasing his eyes left, right, up, down, back up to throw him off….

And then Jared kissed him.

It was the briefest of touches. They were connected and then they weren’t. Jensen stared unblinkingly at Jared for a couple of moments, his gaze questioning. Jared was expecting something. He was waiting for the next part, seemingly content to assume that the kiss snapped Jensen out of whatever daze he had been in. Jensen could do no more than open and close his mouth, eventually running his tongue over his lips where Jared had just kissed him.

He wanted more.

He wanted so much more. He wanted to know what it was like to have that tongue sliding along his own, to dip and turn Jared’s head with his hands as he deepened and lead the kiss…..

Jensen groaned deep in his throat, cock throbbing in his sweats.

 _No!‌_ He needed to hang on. Eventually, Jared would get the message and get out. Or Jensen would somehow manage to actually throw him out–the second scenario was about as likely as Indiana Jones being based off an Eskimo named Juhata Bantai, but _Family Guy_ seemed to believe Jessica Love Hewitt was, so why not, right?

Each time the voice in his head told him that he should have closed the distance, pressed his lips to Jared’s and ravaged him, Jensen saw a twisted look on that beautiful, innocent face. He saw Jared staring at him like he didn’t know who he was anymore, pretending not to wish to be anywhere else whenever they ended up in the same room together after that day. Jensen couldn’t even handle the notion of that happening. Waking up every day knowing that Jared was regretting that first smile he ever gave him when they met for the first time had him wishing for a swift death. What would he do with himself if he couldn’t expect to dial that familiar number and have that captivating voice stating they were happy to hear from him? Maybe after that day, it would only be to tell them that their folks weren’t doing too well and he would have probably wanted to pay them a visit.

He didn’t realize he was crying.

Not until Jared started crying, too, asking without asking what was happening to him. Jensen could see the deep desire beneath the veil of composure screaming into the distance, searching for the answers that he sought–daring anything or anyone to stand in his way. Jensen loved him for that. There wasn't anything that Jared could do that would take those feelings away, and that was the issue. What was once curiosity, changed to lust, changed to love, morphed into something even deeper; something that held within it his beating heart.

All Jared had to do to kill every part of him, except his physical form, was crush what he had exclusive access to.

“It’s okay, Jen. I’m here. All right? Don’t think about _Landen._ There will be others–someone who deserves you, _truly,_ ” Jared told him, wiping the tears from his eyes and pressing a soft, lingering kiss against his forehead.

He didn’t know. He didn’t understand…. It wasn’t about Landen. It would never be about Landen. If it was about Landen, he wouldn’t have been feeling that way.

Jensen just didn’t want Jared to leave him–to hate him.‌ He didn’t want to ever see those eyes simmering with unbridled disgust for him….

“It’s not,”‌ Jensen paused, deciding if he wanted to finish that sentence.‌ “Why are you doing this? Why are you giving yourself to me? What’s the point to all of this?” At that point, Jensen wasn’t sure if he was asking Jared or himself.

“I told you I would kill for you, Jensen. You don’t think I can bring myself to, what, take a few rounds of spanking?‌ Maybe get some fresh bites? It took, like, two weeks for the last ones to heal; the guys at the gym wouldn’t stop staring at them, like, ‘ _damn, who did you see last night’_. I mean there was one that winked at me like they could do better or–”

Jensen cursed inside his mind the moment he sealed his lips over Jared’s and backed him up until he was flush against a wall. Jared opened up willingly to him. Taking that as a good sign, Jensen dived in for a taste, tilting Jared’s head to the side and forcing him down slightly with a hand on his shoulder to deepen the kiss.

When their tongues touched for the first time, Jensen wondered if he had ever really kissed someone else before. Everything was the same. The wet, slip-slide, the vague taste of the day's food, the squelch of saliva overlapping and popping bubbles inside their mouths. Nothing was different, except everything was different. From the tip of Jared’s tongue to the soft, possibly accidental scrapes of his teeth, Jensen felt as though he was truly alive for the first time. He moaned softly, adding more force to his lips, pushing Jared further down until his chin pointed at his clavicle.

Jensen was breathing heavily through his nose, the sound blending seamlessly with the wet parting of their lips.‌ Jensen gripped Jared’s jaw with one hand and pried his mouth open to lick into him, letting out a deep sound before spitting inside.

Jared looked shocked at the action but didn't stop him. He held his mouth open, swallowing what he was given as Jensen repeated himself, shoving his fingers into that furnace of a mouth and bearing down on his tongue.

“Suck them,”‌ Jensen ordered, a guttural moan crawling up his throat when Jared closed his lips around his digits, drawing his lips back crudely, almost. It made Jensen pulse a fresh spindle of pre-come into the fabric of his sweats.

He eyed the loose tear-tracks on Jared's cheeks and bent his head to lick them off, kissing just beneath each eyelid to show his appreciation. Jared didn’t react at all, continuing to suck greedily on his fingers. How he was supposed to get through this alive, with Jared doing that, Jensen had no idea.

He didn’t know if he was going to go through with the whole thing. Maybe he would stop after that, back off and go back to insisting that Jared get out of his house. That’s what he should have done.

Instead, he forced his fingers down Jared’s throat until he choked around them, eyes welling up with fresh tears that Jensen caught with his tongue, lapping them up as if they were divine drops from the sky containing eternal vitality.

Pulling his fingers back out and keeping his grip firm as Jared coughed until he could breathe properly again, Jensen felt equal parts turned on and horrified. He spat in his mouth again, crushing their lips together, one hand wrenching Jared’s head back with a tight grip in his hair.

He inclined back, appraised Jared’s face and then spat again, mesmerised by how obedient his stepbrother was being for him. Jared remained rigid, not resisting the stretch of his jaw at all–he was practically relaxing into it, just allowing Jensen to do what he wanted with him. The submission narrowly tickled the perpetual itch deep within his core, the darker side of his nature purring as Jared looked up at him with trust and devotion.

The flicker of arousal in Jared’s eyes had Jensen shoving him to his knees on the ground and pressing his face against his crotch. Jared made a noise, mouthing at the thick mass protruding from the stretch of cotton. Jensen bit back the deep moan begging to break free, content to watch Jared try to suck him through his clothes.

But wait…. That might have been too far.

Jensen cussed himself out in his head, thumping it against the wall before backing off. Jared chased after him, curling his arms behind his legs and burying his nose in his groin, sniffing and licking the moist fabric.

“Fuck. Jay, what are you doing?”

“Keep going. _Please_ … I’ve wanted to return the favor since the first time,” Jared told him, head lifting up to latch his teeth onto Jensen’s waistband. He watched with rapt attention as Jared nuzzled his naval, hair mussing up his shirt.‌ From where he was standing, he could see that Jared, like the submissives at the club, was waiting for him to give the order to pull his sweats down, and the implication alone had him close to the edge of soiling another good pair of bottoms.

Doubt still lingered somewhere deep within his subconscious, telling him that he should have ended it all before it had even begun, escorting Jared out of his house and rubbing three or four out until he was passing out in bed, alone and grief-stricken. That was how it was supposed to go.‌ That was what he was supposed to have done.

Then why did Jensen shove Jared away from him and stride over to his couch, where he took a seat, eyes fixed behind him. “Crawl to me,”‌ he demanded, watching with a blank expression as Jared did as he was told, ending up kneeling between his spread legs.

Jensen was externally impassive. “All fours. Face the wall and arch your back.”‌

There was a question on Jared’s tongue.‌ Jensen could see it, but he ignored it, snaring Jared’s chin in his grip when it took more than four seconds to comply.‌ The trust still didn’t waver, not even flinching at the rough turning of his head, eyes forced to train themselves on the wall.

“No talking,‌” Jensen warned, pleased when Jared followed the rest of his demand.

Once he was in position, Jensen smoothed his hand over Jared’s peachy ass, body quivering as the heated flesh further warmed under his touch. He paid a good amount of attention to both sides, gearing up one hand to come down hard on the taut muscles. Jared lurched forward from the impact, righting himself after one beat. Jensen would forgive the shocked gasp that left his throat. It wasn’t as though he detailed what he was going to do. But that was the point. When he played, they went along with whatever he threw at them without question.

Feeling the sting on his hand had Jensen gritting his teeth to stop from growling like some kind of wild animal. He watched the redness colour the creamy flesh, blooming brilliantly underneath his hand. It looked amazing. Jensen smoothed the area over before delivering a harsh spank to both cheeks, pulling them apart and digging his fingers into the meat, _hard_. He couldn’t stop himself from jiggling them, pitching forward to close his mouth over a firm patch, teeth pressing hard enough to leave marks as he sucked the blood up to the surface.

When he drew back and saw his _stamp_ snarling at him as it grew around Jared’s flesh, Jensen turned his head and released a deep, slow exhale. He couldn’t show Jared how much everything was getting to him, or let him hear it. He had to remain in control. That was the point of all of it.

Jensen slapped Jared again then gripped his hair and pulled his head back until their eyes met. The lack of disgust in those everchanging hues confused him. By then, Jared should have been wishing he never said yes to any of it. He should have been running for the fucking door–but he didn’t. He stayed where he was, diligently keeping his stance and the love he felt for Jensen apparent on his face.

Christ…. He didn’t deserve it. But part of him was past caring.

Jensen released him, refocusing his attention on Jared’s ass, where he rained down on him with another spree of harsh slaps, the meat bouncing with the motion. There were faint, bitten off groans, held in by a tight jaw, from what Jensen could see. Part of him hated that he was causing Jared physical pain…. The other part understood that he wasn’t a whiny little brat and could take it.

To the left of him, he spotted Jared’s shoulders shaking. Deciding to test those limits, Jensen casually reached for the remote, switching the television on. It came to life, and, to his credit, Jared didn’t react to it, keeping his eyes trained on the wall where he was told to keep them.

 _Good boy_.

Jensen hadn’t realised he said it aloud, surprised at himself. He glossed over it like it was nothing, placing his feet on top of the arch of Jared’s back. “Stay still. If you collapse, you’ll be punished. Nod if you understand.”

Jared adhered to his suggestion, bobbing his head to show that he had listened. Jensen smiled to himself and sat back against his couch, hooking one shin over the other as he feigned paying attention to the flickering box. It was background noise to him. His focus was on how Jared was coping with the position, continually keeping watch to see if he would move his head away or roll his shoulders to release the tension.

It was perversely fascinating if Jensen was honest.

Astonishingly, Jared took to it exceptionally well for a first-timer. If Jensen wasn’t convinced that he was an amateur, he could have been persuaded that Jared was hiding a past from him. The way his lower back dipped with ease to accommodate his feet, arms and legs locking in place, keeping them steady had his arousal demanding to see just how obscene that arch would have been with his hips flush against that tantalising ass. Jensen was torn between offering a whistle of appreciation and a demand to know who trained him. He didn’t know what he would have been capable of if he found out that he wasn’t the first and _only_ person to have that privilege. It was _sinful_ to see Jared in that position, presenting himself to Jensen without an ounce of shame making him want to tuck into himself. Instead, his stepbrother willingly gave himself over to him, prepared to do whatever it would have taken to satiate the beast that lived within Jensen, now purring contently with each minute that passed without Jared so much as fidgeting.

Colour Jensen impressed.

On the fifteenth minute, Jensen nudged Jared’s head with the back of his foot, wanting to know what he would do. Jared did nothing. It made Jensen wonder how far he would actually be willing to go for him, and it made him heady.

He removed his feet.

“Get up. Get me a beer and then kneel in front of me.”

Jared got to his feet far quicker than Jensen anticipated, fulfilling his command without fuss. He handed Jensen the beer the moment he was within reach, and then got down to his knees, trusting eyes staring up at him.

“Good boy,” Jensen praised, cupping Jared’s face and rubbing his thumb along his cheekbone. Jared leaned into his touch, a small smile playing on his lips. “Mmm. Such a good boy.”‌

Pulling his hand back took more than Jensen was willing to admit, but he needed it to twist the cap off his beer, which he took a couple of pulls of before swilling it around in his mouth, setting the bottle on the side table. He held it in, keeping his lips sealed as he pried Jared’s apart with a grip on his jaw, looking expectantly at him. Jared got the message, poking his tongue out. Jensen parted his lips and released some of the beer from his mouth, a weird tingle going through him as Jared caught it on his tongue.

Jensen followed the trail down until their lips connected, the mixture of cold and warm confusing his tongue. He noted that Jared hadn’t swallowed, as if waiting for Jensen’s command before he did it.

“Swallow,”‌ he ordered, and Jared immediately complied, moaning as Jensen joined their lips again, running the tip of his tongue along the flat of Jared’s, the lingering taste of beer a welcome addition that had him pushing forward until Jared bent to accommodate the extra weight, spine aligning with the floor. Jensen had to wonder where that flexibility came from.

He pulled back a touch to hoist Jared’s thighs off the floor, advancing as soon as those mile-long legs stretched out fully. Settling atop Jared’s hips, Jensen returned his grip to Jared’s chin, turning his head to lick and bite at the creamy skin of his neck, teeth groaning at the pressure he put on them. He heard Jared grit his teeth and swallow a groan of pain, and he couldn’t help lathing his tongue over the fresh bite with care, kissing it softly, following a line up to Jared’s ear. His lips caught a lobe, pulling back to draw it into his mouth, teeth lightly grazing the loose flesh.

Pitching a little higher, Jensen gave an experimental lick to Jared’s ear, provoking a full-body shudder. He reached between them and curled his fist around Jared’s _hard,_ leaking cock, squeezing mildly as he licked into Jared’s ear, determining whether or not those shudders were positive or negative.

Jensen decided to save it for later, returning to Jared’s neck, the hand on Jared’s cock lowering to grip his balls. Jared gasped and thrashed his head, his neck practically begging for more marks. He answered their silent plea, gleefully biting and sucking on the supple flesh, marking the right side first before paying equal amounts of attention to the left.

When he was done and pleased with his handiwork, he licked back into Jared’s mouth, bringing both hands up to curl around those beautiful wisps, arms vibrating from the grip he had on them as he claimed the moist cavern, catching Jared’s bottom lip with his teeth and biting hard enough to draw blood.

Jared bucked beneath him–he wasn’t trying to get away. He was trying to get closer. His eyes were utterly shot as Jensen reared his head back, searching for that loathing he was expecting to see at any moment.

It wasn’t there.

Jensen crawled up Jared’s body until his knees were planted just above his shoulders, one hand still buried in Jared’s hair while the other reached into his sweats, palming his cock.

“You wanna suck it?”‌

Jared nodded, pupils blown. Jensen briefly noted that he should have tried out for acting.

He tugged the waistband down far enough to let his cock spring from its confines, bobbing from the motion. Jared’s eyes tracked it, and Jensen had to bite back a keening whine.

Biting his bottom lip, he gripped the base of his cock and smacked the head against Jared’s lips.‌ They parted instantly, trying to get around the crown, but Jensen denied him, lightly slapping his face with a freehand and shoving his fingers in his mouth until he gagged on the third knuckles.

Taking his fingers back, Jensen slapped Jared hard enough to leave a red print, but light enough to not jar his head, and then pressed the tip of his cock at the gap between Jared’s lips.

“Don’t do anything until I tell you to do it,”‌ Jensen intoned, smearing Jared’s lips with a hefty glob of precome, nearly choking on his tongue when Jared’s lips twitched in an effort to accept it into his waiting mouth. He decided to indulge him. “Lick your lips.”‌

Jared did so without hesitation, slowly dragging the tip around until he gathered all of it, stroking over Jensen’s slit as he went. His hips jerked forward at the action, one wrong step away from shoving his cock as far down Jared’s throat as he could get it.

“Stick your tongue out.”‌

A pink tongue hung outside of Jared’s mouth, a wet sound permeating the room as Jensen repeatedly tapped his dick on it, pushing Jared’s upper-lip with the tip as he went. He hid the wanton arousal building inside him, keeping up an air of nonchalance, rubbing his cock all over Jared’s lips, nose, cheeks–marking him.

He wanted everyone to know he was his, and his alone.

Jared’s misty breath warmed the edge of Jensen’s cock, practically setting his nerves on fire. God, he wanted that mouth on him. But he had to be patient. If he showed his hand, it would all be over, and he wasn’t sure that he would have been able to function if that happened.

Reality collided with him from all angles, reminding Jensen that what he was doing was wrong, that he should stop–run away, distance himself from what was happening…. It happened again and again, and each time Jared stared up at him, his eyes telling him to ignore everything else and focus on him, to let go of those fears that hung over his head, to stay in the moment, with him.

Jensen’s chest was tight, his heart beating far too erratically in his chest, hands coming up to grip his head as the room span and his vision blurred. He could feel Jared twitching underneath him, hands reaching out to press against his chest.

He couldn’t breathe.

An invisible force crushed his windpipe, deep, choking sounds coming from his throat as he fell on top of his stepbrother, barely registering the body beneath him sliding out from under him until their foreheads met, head instinctively tucking into the crook of his shoulder.

Arms came around him, rocking him as petal-soft lips whispered near his ear, flirting with the skin of his lobe. Phantom weights sat on his back, drawing him closer to the ground, the only thing preventing his collapse the fear that he would hurt Jared.

He tried to remember how to breathe, gasping for a single puff of air as his chest expanded and deflated time after time, a scorching burn searing his ribs; lungs aching from the pressure encasing them.

Jared held on to him, arms a steady presence around his back while his lips moved against his ear, saying words that Jensen couldn’t make heads or tails of. He just wanted it to stop–the pain, the self-disgust, the mortification at breaking down in front of the one person that he never wanted to feel weak in front.

God, he was such a failure.

He writhed on top of Jared, eyes slamming shut as the lack of air in his lungs spread a wave of agony throughout his body. His face paled, the blood leaving it as he clutched fabric with one hand and pounded the floor with the other.

He was going to die. That was his reality.

A strong hand lifted his face and pressed soft, searching lips on his own, light wisps of air breathing life into him, a desperate tongue licking his quivering bottom lip, the sound of begging virtually miles away.

It hurt. His limbs felt like lead, his head was pounding, the room was turning over in front of his eyes. Well, the carpet and the wall. Jared was blocking the rest, blowing air into his mouth and kissing him so gently it made him feel like a puppy. A puppy?‌ He wasn’t a fucking puppy. Jesus Christ, his lungs were on fire–Jensen was scared they were going to burst.

He knew that he could never have Jared like that. The universe didn’t want him to. It was going to do whatever it could to stop it–killing him painfully, erasing him from existence. _Fixing its mistake._

Maybe it was for the best. Jared would finally be free of him, left to get on and make something of his life without him dragging his ass down every step of the way.

Jared was a saint. He deserved better. Deserved better than him–he’d make a lucky lady happy someday–someday without Jensen there to see it.

Jensen was sick of fighting it. Sick of fighting everything. He wanted it to stop, to leave him alone, to let him fall into the abyss that threatened to chew him up and never spit him back out on a daily basis.

His nails clawed the carpet, cuticles screaming from the strain. Tears disappeared before they could fall, soft strokes of practised thumbs holding them at bay. Some part of him was grateful.

Jensen’s shoulders crunched as they raised and lowered, his throat burning from the lack of consistent air, head throbbing with the pressure of a thousand migraines in one.

There was no escape.

The one solace he had was that he would feel his last pulse in the arms of the one he loved.

Hands grabbed his face, lips continued to pepper him with kisses, puffs of air sneaking through the gaps. Jensen still couldn’t understand what they were saying.

Jared should have left. Left him to die and rot with the rest of the trash. If he had really wanted to come full-circle, he could have spat on him for good measure. It would have been appropriate, given how he had spat in Jared’s mouth–what even was that? He never did that at the club. He never _kissed_ anyone at the club or used them as a footrest. God, he was vile. Jared wasn’t a piece of furniture…

He was sunshine. He was the sea. He was rain. He was shine. He was hope, peace, faith, love, _lust,_ kindness…. All of the good things that ever existed in the world manifested themselves in the form of Jared, the only person worthy enough to hold their grace and light the way.

But he had _liked_ it. He liked spitting in Jared’s mouth and watching him swallow a small part of him– _liked_ using him like a spare chair, the weight of his heels bearing down on the small of Jared’s back satisfying the beast inside.

That’s what he was. A beast. A disgusting, soul-destroying beast that would eventually leave a cruel stain on the Earth when he finished dying.

He choked on his next shaky breath, forehead colliding with the one below his–someone was there, holding him up, keeping him grounded. Why? They should have let him drop. Let the boys in blue deal with him a week from then when his neighbours could no longer put up with the _smell._

“Jen!”‌

His nickname echoed in his head, but it did nothing. It didn’t matter. There was no going back from what he did–what he had done was far too loathsome for even the most benevolent of Gods to forgive him.

“Jensen!”

The voice should stop calling out to him.‌ They were wasting their breath. Difference being they deserved theirs, probably.

“Breathe…. _Please._ You have to breathe!”‌

Those hands from before pushed him up until his ass hit the floor. Or maybe it didn’t. He couldn’t tell. There was far too much buzzing in his ears for him to register anything beyond rushing water.

“Please, Jensen–you can’t… You can’t leave me alone!”

The voice was so desperate now. But what was the point?‌ Didn’t they understand that his death would be for the greater good?‌ That used to mean something.

Shaking hands cupped his cheeks, holding him close to a stuttering chest. Huh. Maybe they were dying, too.

“Fight it! Fight for Christ sake!”

He didn’t want to fight. He was done fighting anything then.

“Come on, breathe with me…. You can do it. Breathe, in and out, just like this.”

Jensen could hear faint channels of air flirting with his lips, encouraging him to follow the example. But he was so tired–he was just so done with all of it.

“If you die, I’m coming with you, so you better come back to me! _Jensen!”_

The voice broke through the haze, and he instantly recognised it to be Jared’s. He was calling out to him, begging for him to come back. Jensen shook from the sincerity of it, eyes starting to focus through the cacophony of kaleidoscopic blotches marring the ceiling and a kind, tearful face.

Jared was calling to him. Jared was there, holding him. Jared was asking him to do something–and he wasn’t in the business of denying him anything, not even on his worst day.

“That’s it, Jen. Breathe with me. In and out.”

His stepbrother was coaxing him to mimic the four by four breathing pattern, those nurturing eyes never wavering in their pursuit to chase his own. Jared counted aloud, and then nudged him to do the same.

He felt like a kindergartener.

“One… Two… Three… Four, and out… One… Two… Three… Four. Count with me.”‌

Jensen struggled to grasp the concept of numbers at that moment, but he wasn’t going to let Jared down.

“One… Two… Three… Four…”

“That’s it. And out,” Jared soothed him, stroking one hand through his hair while the other acted as a pitfall for his chin.

“One… Two… Three... Four…”

The heat dissipated and the fog cleared, leaving behind a pulsing ache in his head. But he wasn’t paying attention to it, hand numbly reaching up to dry the tears from Jared’s eyes and bury his head against his chest.

“I swear… If you point that _asshole_ out to me on the street, I will fucking kill him.”‌

Jensen didn’t need clarification to know who Jared was referring to. He didn’t have the heart to tell him that Landen had _nothing_ to do with what happened to him.

“I‌ mean it, Jen,”‌ Jared insisted, pressing soft kisses on his crown as he rubbed a thumb over the back of his neck, holding him close enough to not suffocate him.

Jared was still naked. He wasn’t hard. That was fine, neither was Jensen. His cock shrivelled up the second he forgot how to draw in air.

After a while of just sitting on the floor, being rocked side to side, Jensen put his arms around Jared’s back and pulled him as tight against him as possible, until Jared was sitting on his lap, ass touching his groin. Jensen didn’t even register it, squeezing Jared tenderly and breathing evenly on his neck, nosing the pulse point.

“Don’t scare me like that,”‌ Jared commanded into his hair. “I‌ know you told me no talking, but I had to do something–I–”

Jensen stroked a hand down his sweaty back, not even caring. He kissed his shoulder joint and hiked him up a touch, saying without saying that Jared didn’t need to feel guilty for anything.

It wasn’t a sensual kiss. Just a soft touch. Barely there. ‌A comfort thing

“I’m sorry,”‌ Jensen said, voice not even close to his original timber.

Jared hugged him tighter, nails scraping his back as frustrated fingers curled inward. “Don’t you dare apologise,”‌ he snapped, but there was no bite to it, wisps of brown, luscious hair tickling his cheeks. “This was _not_ your fault.‌ Do you understand me?‌ I never should have pushed you–you told me to leave so many times, and I just… You probably gave in because it’s _me,_ and I‌ know that because if I were you, I would have, too. Anything to make you feel better. God, I’m so selfish–”

“ _Stop it,_ ” Jensen almost raged, jerking Jared’s head back by his hair to lock their eyes. “You are not selfish. I‌ don’t _ever_ want to hear you say that, am I fucking clear?”‌

Jared nodded, teeth nibbling his bottom lip.

“Good. Now shut up.”‌ Jensen levelled him with a stare full of conviction, eyes softening when Jared relaxed against him. “That’s better,”‌ he added, testing his _sealegs_ to bring them up to a standing position. His legs protested the added burden of Jared, but he mentally told them to deal with it, getting them both on the couch.

He had Jared spread his legs out and rest his head on his lap, one hand absently stroking through Jared’s hair, massaging his scalp on the upstroke.

Time seemed to slow to a standstill as they stayed in that moment. Jensen didn’t have the heart to tell Jared that he would have no choice but to put a lot of space between them after that night. He was internally sobbing just thinking about it, but it would be for the best.

Jared would understand that someday.

Maybe he would, too.

When Jensen registered light snoring come from his lap, a small smile stretched his face before it vanished, replaced with the dread he felt at his next statement.

“Never again,” he said to a sleeping Jared.

But it was mostly to himself. A reminder that he couldn’t have what he wanted. And that was okay.

It would be okay.

One day.

That was the third time he said _never again_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who saw it coming? I mean, tags and shit. But I have to because of trigger warnings. Still shocking, though, right? 
> 
> God, I'm evil. 
> 
> Until next time!


	4. The Time He Didn't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo. Last part. I'm glad to have finished another story! :D And it only took like a couple of months or whatever which is a win in my book. XD 
> 
> I hope that you enjoy the last part! 
> 
> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated. 
> 
> Stay safe out there! 
> 
> (MILD TRIGGER WARNING FOR SUICIDAL IDEATION)

Going so far as to relocate to another galaxy would have been a wasted effort, and Jensen knew that. He could have told himself that long before he decided to request leave from work, using his friendly relationship with his Boss to get time off on his remote island. Nothing but sand, trees, nature and the sea for him to revel in. Only, he found that he wasn’t able to appreciate anything.

Not the morning tune of the birds as they sored by on their way to newer and better things. Not the gentle ripple of waves that dragged along the shoreline, pulling crabs off their sideway course towards victory. Not the fresh sea smell in the air that would have had a calming effect on him, had it not been for his state of unrest. Anything someone could imagine taking pleasure in while on a remote island, away from civilisation, getting back in touch with their roots, and Jensen couldn’t draw happiness from any of it.

He missed his phone for the simple reason that he couldn’t check it for messages or calls from Jared. He missed his laptop for the same reason. His tablet–any device that kept his connection to Jared up and running. But it was for the best, he told himself. Convinced himself barely that he was doing the right thing by running away.

And that’s what it was. He was running away from a life that he had ruined for himself, not even sure that he would ever be welcome back in it. While Jensen knew that Jared would never cut him out of his life entirely, there’s no reason why he shouldn't have after the way Jensen had treated him. Like he was nothing, a toy to use and abuse until it shattered, the drawstring frayed and coiled from years of use.

Jared had fallen apart in his hands, bent in whatever direction he instructed him to. He had been willing to do anything and everything that Jensen wanted, without hesitation. It made him sick how much he got off on it, night after night in his Boss’s hut, pulling on his cock until it was spent raw from coming repeatedly, Jared’s name a deep purr on his lips, images of those eyes staring up at him as he held his jaw open, feeding beer into his consenting, thirsty mouth like a mother bird feeding her babies.

There was something wrong with him to imagine Jared in that way. An object, and not the personification of sunshine, but it was what he ended up doing. Maybe it had made it easier for him, thinking that if he reduced Jared to nothing more than a sex toy for him to have his wicked way with and then dispose of, he didn’t have to ruminate on the consequences that followed–the inevitable strain that would poison their once envied relationship.

Jensen made a case for himself with that in mind, and he was hopeful that it was the reason.‌ Of course he fantasied about Jared in submissive stances, collared with his name engraved on the tag or over his lap taking a spanking until his mind escaped to that hazy wonderland, giving himself over to Jensen’s hand bringing him to highs and lows that he never dreamt of.

Those were things that he wanted for them, in a reality where they were together, but that was a mere part of it. That would be somewhat of a stress relief, when they needed to do something different to escape from the mundanity of everyday working life and the like. Jensen would have taken control, allowed them to escape for a bit, bringing Jared back down to reality when it was over, sated and happy. Just how Jensen would have liked to have seen him every day if he could help it.

The rest of the time, it would have been cuddles on the couch, spooning in bed, gentle touches, showering together, laughing, taste-testing the stew and sharing a deep kiss that held within the words that never would have been said enough throughout their lifetimes.

It would have been eating out at a nice restaurant on their anniversary, Jared looking all out of place in his suit and tie, staring at the menu like it was written in Arabic, and Jensen would order for him because Jared would be worried that he’d pick the least fancy option in the place.‌ Jensen wouldn't have known what to pick either–he would have chosen that place because it looked nice. It wouldn't have been them, and that would have been okay. They would have made it work because all they needed was each other to be happy.

It would have been walks along the beach, hand in hand, not taking in anyone else but themselves as the light refracted off the twin bands around their ring fingers.

It would have been Christmas with their parents, playing footsie under the table and then retreating to one of their childhood rooms to rut and frot against each other until they both came in their pants, accusing the other one for being a giant tease at dinner.

It would have been eventually telling their parents that they were together, that they were happy, and that–at least in Jensen’s case–he wasn’t willing to give it up for anything, that if their parents couldn’t accept their love, then he didn’t need them in their life.

It would have been taking one look at Jared when he walked through the door, stressed out from a hard day at work.‌ He would have sat him down, massaged his shoulders, made his favourite dinner and made him laugh and smile. Or if that hadn’t worked, shoved him against the nearest wall and blown him so hard he almost blacked out, hand still teasing over his sensitive cockhead until Jared begged him to stop, blissful agony lacing the croak in his voice, one arm thrown over his face and sweat racing down his cheeks. But Jensen wouldn’t have stopped. He would have kept going until Jared was ready to shoot again, two fingers pressed against his prostate, Jensen’s name like a prayer.

It would have been them. And that’s all that would have mattered. The two of them against the world, proving that love held no bounds one kiss at a time.

Yes, it was sappy. Yes, it made him sick to his stomach to see himself in such a light. But it lasted a mere second, replaced with a ravenous need to see it happen. All the tiny touches, the expressions of love, the late night's in with some dumb ass movie on T.V. that neither of them would have been paying attention to, hands in each other’s underwear, racing to get the other off first. Or perhaps even Jared’s mouth warming his cock. Just like that. No need to move or bob, dip or lick, no suction. Just Jared’s wet heat around his cock, and Jared’s pleasant hums of bliss at having Jensen nestled in his throat.

Jensen tried his hardest not to think too much about those things. It was a losing battle, as if he had no control over his mind. He used to think that going to the BDSM club had worked. Then Jared would call or text him, or hell, show up at his door, and all that _control_ he thought he had gained back disappeared without a trace, substituted for that ever-familiar pining that spurred within him from just one look.

Did he ever have any control in his life where Jared was concerned‌?‌ Jensen didn’t have the answer to that. Rational thought was a rarity when Jared was part of the subject. If he lost sight of Jared for more than ten minutes, he would go into freakout mode, combing the streets for him, asking everyone he came across if they had seen him, looking frantic as all Hell.

Jared never failed to have him in knots, even if he had simply gone off to look at some missing dog poster or whatever, and Jensen hadn’t thought to peer over his shoulder before bolting in the opposite direction, since Jared was always to his right, shoulders brushing against his, grounding him.

Jensen sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. He supposed he wasn’t going to get through today without obsessing over Jared, either. It figured. Not like he wasn’t used to it by that point, waking up with Jared’s smile on his brain, falling asleep with the same image.

The reoccurring nightmare was Jared’s face when he told him that he was going away for a while and he wasn’t sure when he would be back. He saw it in every atom that held within it a reflection, those sunken, dead eyes that blinked back tears as Jared _smiled_ at him, wishing him luck and a safe trip, arms so numb around his body they may as well not have even been there.

Jared was like a zombie, automatic responses falling out of his mouth while his mind was clearly someplace else. He was probably trying to contain his relief that he wouldn’t have to be the one to distance himself, content to let Jensen do it for them–Jensen knew damn well that if the roles had been reversed, that would have been the option that helped him sleep better at night.

Knowing that it was the right thing to do didn’t make it any easier. The first night on the island, Jensen didn’t sleep a wink. It didn’t matter that he spent the better part of the day catching his own food, reading a book, running along the beach, locating a fresh source of water, etc. Despite how his legs screamed at him to take a rest or how his eyes begged him to slip into unconsciousness, his body wasn’t listening, and Jensen was left to stare at the wall of the hut, counting the splintered wood, yearning for a warm body to curl up to.

The next few days hadn’t gone any better. Rising early on hardly any sleep, jogging, catching breakfast, reading, desperately trying not to think about Jared and epically failing every time.

When a week passed over, Jensen was finally able to catch more than a couple of hours, waking up feeling slightly more refreshed as the days went on, though it didn’t prevent his mind from lingering on dimples, long, beautiful legs, chestnut hair, everchanging eyes, an ass that wouldn’t quit and everything in between. Jensen was convinced that he could have smashed his head in with a rock and he still wouldn’t have been able to get Jared out of his mind for love nor money.

Jensen didn’t know how long he planned to stay on his Boss’s island. Perhaps forever. He could make a life out there if he really tried. He just wasn’t going to fool himself into ever thinking that he would be selfless enough to stay the Hell away. No, he knew that he would return one day, bringing the curses and the poison right along with him.

He was weak, needy, selfish. He couldn’t help himself, morbidly curious as to how long he could go without seeing one of Jared’s sunshine smiles before it all became too much for him and he–no. He wasn’t going to think about that, having promised himself that he would stop after the fourth night. That was not something he was going to leave to other people to deal with. Especially not Jared. No matter how slim the chances were of them finding him out there, he wasn’t going to take that risk. He wasn’t going to do that to Jared.

Imagining the anguish on his face was enough to deter him from those thoughts. How would he ever hope to have a peaceful afterlife when all he would be able to focus on would be Jared’s suffering?‌

Yeah, not happening.

He’d save that for the day that Jared told him he never wanted to see him again. That seemed fair. And with the way that Jensen had been acting, that day could have come sooner than he thought.

After the incident, Jared hadn’t made him feel bad about it. In fact, he had seemed nothing but guilty, blaming himself for Jensen’s panic attack, promising him that he wasn’t a monster, that monsters were huge and scary, and Jensen’s short and adorable, so he couldn’t be one of those.

Jensen heard his words. He did. But what he saw was scorn, the curtains finally drawn across Jared’s eyes as he saw Jensen for the first time–truly, coming to the realization that he was fucked in the head for some of the things that he wanted to do. Some of the things that he had already done, spitting in Jared’s mouth, using him like a fucking table…

The heat of the sand crept into Jensen’s skin and he turned over onto his side.

He knew that he couldn’t hide out there forever. At some point, he would have to face reality. He would have to face that Jared wanted him to willingly take a step back from his life and let him get on with it, slipping into a routine of pretending he wasn’t disgusted by Jensen whenever they crossed paths at family gatherings, chilling his bones with a fake laugh and an embrace that would leave him feeling even colder.

But like the desperate bottom-feeder that he was, Jensen would have still lapped up what little of Jared he could at that moment, breathing him in shamelessly by that point. What would be the point holding himself back, when they would be the only moments that he would have to take his fill? Yeah, he didn't think so, either. Physically restraining himself from pulling him tighter against his body, inhaling his scent deep in his nose and holding on for just shy of too long would have ended up doing him in far sooner, which perhaps wouldn’t have been such a bad thing, given the circumstances.

Jared wouldn’t have pushed him away, keeping up the act of being friendly and content with each other, claiming to have missed him through a strangled spree of false admissions imbued with vitriol. And Jensen would have taken it all, too, just to hear his voice near his ear, to have his attention on him for three to four Mississippis.

Whatever Jared would have been willing to give him.

The sand warmed his palms as he curled his fingers against it, recalling the heat of Jared’s lips on his own, submitting to him so freely. They had spoken a muted language, promising that he would be safe in their embrace, that they would catch him if he fell too far.

And he had fallen too far, turning their helpful offering into something bitter and acidic, biting, pressing in, owing them like he was worrying away the skin until a fresh layer remained, marked only by his mouth–every other trace of lingering presses from nameless silhouettes stripped away into nothingness.

His hands had joined the fray, twisting and turning Jared’s head, prying his mouth open for him to dwindle down to nothing but a hole to shove his fingers inside, relishing the drag of Jared’s wet, pink tongue along the ridges. Jensen had done the unthinkable then, spitting into Jared’s mouth, a sick perversion swelling within in at the sight of Jared gulping it down like he had been traipsing through the desert on haggard feet for days, and Jensen’s spit was the only source of water he had come across.

The power–the ownership of that action alone had Jensen’s cock pulsing behind his sweats, ready to blow at a moments notice with the way Jared was giving himself over to him so beautifully, so easily, like he trusted Jensen emphatically to piece him back together once it had all been over.

They never got that far. Jensen wasn’t sure how far it would have gone had he not been halted by his panic attack, still torn between whether or not he should have survived it…‌ That Jared should have just left him there flailing for breath on his own carpet and ran out of Jensen’s house like his ass was on fire.

Jared hadn’t, though. He had talked him down, _blamed himself_ for Jensen’s sickness. It was ludicrous to even consider it. Jared did exactly what Jensen would have done had he been in Jared’s position, and that wasn’t something he was ever going to give him shit for or hold over his head.

To add to the spree of metaphorical nails in his coffin, Jared had looked at him like he hung the moon the moment he had opened his eyes, the back of his head nestling further into Jensen’s lap, wishing him a good whatever time it was. Jensen remembered that it was 6 A.M. and he hadn’t slept at all–hadn’t moved either, not willing to jostle Jared at all, content to soak up the last of the touches that he was going to be able to steal, smoothing Jared’s hair out of his face, stroking the curve of his cheek with a crooked finger… Anything to scratch the itch, to distract from the empty pit that had formed in his stomach while he developed his escape plan after Jared had gone back to his own place.

Jared had acted like nothing sinful or disgusting had happened at all. As if Jensen hadn’t treated him like a stunningly beautiful human blowup doll that had one goal in mind of fulfilling any and all of the user's fantasies. As if he hadn’t propped his feet up on the stretch of Jared’s back several hours prior, nothing but a makeshift footstool for him to get his jollies while testing the sturdiness. As if he hadn’t had him on his back, slapping his cock on his face, content to shove the entirety of his length into that willing throat.

None of that seemed to have even registered to Jared, who had smiled up at him so bright he blinked back the spots dancing in his vision, silently pleading with him to get off his lap so that he didn’t have to push him away–that he didn’t have to be the one to ruin the moment unfolding between them.

Jared had stayed right where he was, turning onto his side and curling an arm around Jensen’s lower back, a relaxed sigh leaving his lips as he had nuzzled Jensen’s clothed stomach, insisting that Jensen should make breakfast since he was the guest.

A smile stretched Jensen’s lips before he could stop it, sand pouring out of the gaps in his fist.

Those drama classes Jared took really paid off. That smile, that ease of movement, that relaxed posture… All of it fooled Jensen hook, line and sinker. He knew better than to believe that Jared wasn’t actually disgusted with him, though. After all, he hadn’t fought back much when he told him he was leaving.

Not that it mattered. What had he been expecting, really? A confession of love?‌ Jared begging him to stay?‌ A‌ kiss that would have turned his legs to mush and stopped him from getting in his car? Yeah, none of that happened. Jared blinked back those tears of his, hugged him to his chest with no conviction and refused to look at him when he closed the door on his face.

Which is exactly what he had deserved.

Jensen sighed forlornly, turned onto his front with a quiet grunt and crossed his arms beneath his chin, praying to anyone that was listening that when the sun dropped below the skyline, he would know what to do.

===

After four full weeks on the island, Jensen reached his limit. He packed up his stuff, loaded it onto the speedboat and booked it back home. Jensen hadn’t magically connected all the dots while he had been away and come up with some game plan, but he wasn’t willing to stay one more day on that island, heart hollow and aching for its other half, body so tense that his joints cracked on repeat like a withered guitar severely needing a tune-up.

The first thing he did when he entered his house was fall to his knees, the memory of that encounter playing out in front of his eyes as if a projector was set up behind him, waiting to remind him he was poison. He waved away the thoughts as best as he could, pulled himself to a standing position and stumbled up the stairs to his shower, clothing discarded haphazardly along the way.

A mess, just like his life was.

Jensen scrubbed his skin redraw several times over, not stepping out until a light hum resonated beneath his flesh, following him to his bedroom, where he had only the energy to shuck on a pair of boxers before he succumbed to the enticing pull of his bed.

He tossed and turned on the sheets, sweat bled into his pillow, damp by the time he woke up a few hours later. All at once, he was assaulted with inner voices demanding that he start letting people know that he had returned–namely one person in particular, that he had the right to know that he was back in town.

Should he have said anything, though? Maybe it would have been better to leave Jared alone.‌ That was what he thought to himself even as he reached for his phone, anticipation building in his gut once he unlocked it and switched off aeroplane mode.

The internet reconnected, and Jensen’s phone went on some wild frenzy, dinging and buzzing, clicking and clacking as notification after notification poured in, his interface not having enough time to keep up with the onslaught. At one point, his phone screen blacked out, and he was worried that it may have broken, his heart in his throat while he waited for it to come back to life.

It just _kept_ going, no end in sight.‌ He was half-convinced that he had reached celebrity status before he went away, and it was the result of one of his friends leaking his phone number. Jensen had no idea what would have made him famous, but it was the one option that made sense to him at that moment, with his phone registering message after message. Jensen had no idea who they were from, although his heart told him who he wanted it to be, loudly.

Eventually, after what felt like hours, his phone slowed to a standstill, enough for Jensen to unlock it and click on his messenger app, eyes almost bugging out of his head at the number of unread messages from _Jayby._

Jensen read through all of them. Of course he did. They were from Jared, detailing every day that he had missed from him while he was away, talking about how he went out with his colleagues, how he helped some lady with her lawn because both she and her husband were disabled, how he got some new outfit which he wasn’t sure about at all, wishing that Jensen had been there to pick it for him.

He told Jensen that he went to their favourite burger joint, pointing out that the staff asked after him since they almost always went there together. Jared added that he went there because he was missing him a lot that day, that they had so many good memories there together and he wanted to feel close to him.

It hurt Jensen’s heart to read that, to know that Jared suffered without him there.

He told Jensen that he nearly rented a speedboat himself more than once, but he wouldn’t have known where to go, so he let the idea drop, pleading with Jensen to take him with him next time, that no one else got him like Jensen did.

Jared talked about how he had told some joke at work that no one laughed at, going on to say that his pride had been extremely wounded. He added the _joke_ that he had told below and demanded that he told him what he thought of it honestly. Jensen didn’t have the heart to tell him after all of that time away that the joke wasn’t landing.

There was talk of a movie that he had wanted to take Jensen to see with him, claiming that Jensen would have liked it while also being able to explain the parts that went completely over Jared’s head.

Jensen knew that he was full of shit, then. Jared played the fool a lot, but he was sharp as a knife. He just preferred the way that Jensen explained it, hanging off of his every word like it was gospel.

As he scrolled through the messages, Jensen was waiting for the one about how much Jared hated him, how he made him sick to his stomach, how he wanted him to stay away for the rest of their lives, but it never came. Jared reminded him in every single one of the two-hundred and sixty-four messages how much he missed him, with emojis and all, hope for him to return soon tacked onto the end.

Jensen couldn’t believe what he was looking at. It almost made him angry that there were no words of resentment since he spent four weeks convincing himself that he would come back to a sour reception that tolerated his presence. Yet the words on the screen held nothing of that nature. Jared had texted him several times over every day, some of them minutes apart from the other.

Jared had texted him about the dreams that he had. A‌ monkey with a face, which Jensen had raised an eyebrow at. Two dragons that looked suspiciously like Chris and Chad bathing the city in fire. Jared made a joke about them finally having enough of being made the butt of the joke–Jensen agreed with that wholeheartedly. There was also a dream about a sixteen-foot panda called Julian, and Jared’s one note about it was that he was happy to be the short one for once. Jensen laughed far longer than he probably should have at that one.

There were a lot of dreams sprinkled throughout. Some of them featured the two of them, and Jensen’s stomach dropped when he felt the emotion seeping into the words on the screen as Jared relived a fond memory of theirs. By the end of the passage, Jensen could feel the ache in his stomach from all the candy they wolfed down that night, sprawled out on a blanket underneath the stars, promising each other they would make it a tradition of theirs.

Jared added that sometimes he thought about living in that moment for the rest of eternity, bathed in the moonlight and enraptured by the canopy of stars next to his favourite person.

His _favourite_ person. The line had Jensen choking back tears. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t let them fall. Maybe it was because he had already shed so many on the island and leading up to running away. Maybe he was tired of feeling weak, helpless, unfettered. Maybe he wanted to go one second where he felt as though he was in control of one aspect of his life. Even if it was something as arbitrary as choosing not to cry.

Whatever the case, he held on, thumbed to the top of the string of messages and read them again, imagining Jared taking pauses and staring up at the ceiling as he thought about what he wanted to write next. He would smile when he figured it out, tongue wetting his lips as if he were preparing to say the words out loud.

Jensen poured through all of them, again and again, and twice more for good measure. He didn’t know what time it was when he was done going through them, finally finding the nerve to send a reply letting everyone know that he was back. He didn’t offer his friends and family the same courtesy, forcing himself to sift through each one. His shoulders sagged the closer he got to the end, wondering if it would have been better to have thrown his phone in the garbage disposal and start from scratch.

Not that he would ever have done it. Even without having read the messages from Jared, Jensen wouldn’t have been able to oust them without ever having seen them first, not even with the end of the world on their hands or something. Nothing would have stopped him from keeping those words close to his chest, just like he did with words spoken.

Jensen hated how pathetic he sounded, contemplating reducing himself to a human test subject, hoping that the uncertified drugs pumped through his veins would give him some sense of clarity, helping him to move on from the desperate need to be the centre of Jared’s universe when he knew that that wasn’t the place that he belonged. Especially not after what he did…

Why wasn’t Jared angry with him? Why didn’t he want to hit him? Hell, _Jensen_ wanted to do more than hit himself repeatedly until his face was nothing but caved in skin and bone. He somehow stopped himself whenever he saw his miserable face reflected back at him, narrowly avoiding breaking the surface that dared to mirror him.

For all that had happened between them, wouldn’t it have made sense for Jared to be furious with him? He treated him like a literal object, and Jared was content to let it all wash down the creek like it was nothing… What was up with that? Did he think that little of himself that it was okay for Jensen to treat him that way?

Jensen violently shook his head. No. He refused to believe that he had lost the ability to read Jared, and as hard as it was for him to admit–despite how on board with it his downstairs brain was–Jensen had _felt_ Jared’s interest in what had been happening to him. Now, he didn’t know what that said about either of them, truthfully… So Jared had a kink for being a bit of a doormat. There was nothing wrong with that. It was just something that he needed to explore.

Jensen happened to be there when he discovered that secret side of him. Yeah, that was all that was. Right place, right time. Or, perhaps it was more accurate to say wrong place, wrong time.

One day, Jared would find a nice girl with a wild side and she would… Give Jared what he needed.

Bile rose in his throat, his stomach roiling dangerously close to bringing up his breakfast. Jensen ignored it and the sweat breaking out on his body. He would have to bite his tongue.‌ That was all he could do in that scenario, even if the monster inside would want nothing more than to lean in and claim that he had him first…

Jensen scratched his arm and palmed his hands through his hair, rubbed his clammy hands down the sides of his face and tucked them underneath his head.

Sleep called to him again, and Jensen didn’t have to be asked twice, falling into the darkness for another wave of restless, fitful longing for a shred of peace in the solemn abyss.

He didn’t get to sleep for long, roused by the sound of consistent pounding of wood slamming through his ears. Part of him hoped that it was an assassin that had come to put him out of his misery, having waited long enough for his arrival, which could explain the impatient banging. Jensen wished that it would stop because it was really giving him a headache, and he _really_ didn’t want to deal with whoever was beyond that door.

Until he heard the voice on the other side.

“Jen?! Jensen?‌ Please open the door,” Jared said, emotion thick in his voice as he rapped louder at the door, sounding ready to kick it in if need be. “Come on, man!‌ Don’t leave me out here screaming on your doorstep. I‌ don’t want your neighbors thinking I’m some abusive asshole.”

Jensen was out of his bed and running to the door before he even knew what he was doing, clad in nothing but his boxers and breathing like he just ran a marathon. He pried the door open with shaking hands, stepping back to let it swing wide, eyes taking in every bit of Jared that he could in one go, a breath whooshing out of him as Jared wrapped his arms around him and folded into him, bending forward and laying his head on his chest, a mix between a wounded and relieved sound vibrating through his throat as he held on.

The nasty voice in his mind told him that he didn’t deserve it, that he should have put distance between them and thought of it as repentance for his disgusting deeds. He didn’t have the fight to listen to it, though, stroking his hands through Jared’s hair, pulling him flush against him, current state of undress be damned. Jared needed him, and there was nothing that was going to get in the way of Jensen being whatever he needed, ready to stand in that one spot while Jared clung to him for dear life from now until eternity.

Jared shifted further up his body then, resting his chin in the crook of Jensen’s neck, nose brushing his pulse point. He didn’t let go for a long time, sharing his breath, sighing contentedly, nuzzling closer, Jensen’s body heating up from layers of clothes and natural body heat seeping into his flesh. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was he was the one causing those soft, pleased sighs falling from Jared’s lips.

When Jared finally pulled back to arm's length, hands not leaving Jensen’s shoulders, Jensen didn’t have any words. Jared was stood in front of him, _still_ staring at him like he hung the moon… _Still_ treating him like he meant something. _Still_ treating him like he wasn’t some type of monster just waiting for the right moment to strike. Jared looked at him like he mattered… Like he cared that Jensen was back in his life again–that he was _glad_ he hadn’t spent any more time on the island, Jensen just then realizing that Jared was sweating bullets, hair matted in perspiration.

Had he run there?‌

“Don’t ever leave me again,”‌ Jared said, his face screaming loud and true that he meant what he was saying. “Please,”‌ he added on more softly, stroking his thumbs over Jensen’s shoulders. “Or, if you do, for the love of God, take me with you.”‌

Jensen had a decision to make. He could have asked Jared all of the questions that he wanted to ask him, starting with why he wasn’t sporting a bloody nose right about then. He could have shoved Jared through the open door and slammed it shut, signalling with a click that the chapter of he and Jared was over. He could have prayed for lightning to strike him where he stood after he slammed said door. He could have pulled Jared into another hug and held him until their bodies gave out on them. He could have kissed those lips that he’d wanted to kiss since Jared roused awake in his lap. He could have jabbed Jared playfully on the chest, called him a complete fucking sap and acted like he was the weird one…

Jensen had a decision to make. It was important, as it would set the course for whatever came next for them. Jared was waiting for him, eyes so trusting and full of hope, putting all of his faith in Jensen to steer the ship for them. It made him shudder, starting from his toes and travelling all the way up to the tips of his hairs.

The only thing that he could think of at the time was, “Hi,”‌ he said, voice like razorblades stuck in his throat, but it was as if it was all Jared needed to hear, beaming so brightly Jensen lost track of the year. “I won’t…,”‌ he told him, struggling to keep eye contact, not knowing whether or not it was an unintentional lie.

On the island, he rehearsed thousands of different lines that he could have said to Jared, but none of them felt right lingering behind the starting line of his tongue, locked and loaded to tear out of the gate at the first echo of metaphorical gunfire.

He held them at bay, lips set firm to ward off any rebellion. Perhaps he did so because it was a delicate situation, stood face to face with the man he loved, who wasn’t looking to dredge up the past, content to glance over it as if it had never happened, and Jensen wanted that.

Well, he wanted it to a degree. The sick part of him didn’t want Jared to ever forget what transpired between them‌. Knowing that Jensen had had his hands on him in that way. Knowing that Jensen had shown him a whole new world, laid claim to those lips, bent that body to his will…

No, he didn’t want Jared to forget that, regardless of how twisted it was. It was something shared between them, Jensen’s final time getting to touch…‌To kiss… To watch Jared submit so beautifully to him, relinquishing power over to Jensen like there was no one else in the world he trusted to hold onto it.

There was no telling where he would have gone from that point onward, having had the one person that he wanted to have in that way, truly, and having to go back to substitutions that would never have lived up to the genuine article glistening with sweat one pace ahead of him, staring quizzically at his face now that he had gotten a thorough look.

The loneliness of those past four weeks dropped off of him like a bag of sand, the air around him feeling lighter as he breathed in through his nose, picking up on hints of citrus from the handwash that Jared used and the subtle rich quality to his aftershave, his next exhale expelling the rigid stiffness in his arms, legs feeling less withered from Jared’s continued appraisal, those everchanging eyes taking note of every part of him, and Jensen prayed that he didn’t notice he was half-hard.

Jensen wasn’t sure if that had anything to do with it being Jared that was in front of him, or just that he hadn’t had sex or been in contact with another person for _a while…_

“You might need to shave.” Jared tugged on his beard, a frown on his face, effectively dragging Jensen’s eyes back up to his. “Didn’t you take a razor with you?”

“No,” Jensen answered, torn between batting Jared’s hand away and letting it stay there. “I took some clothes and some books. Simple stuff, really. You don’t like my caveman chic?”

Jared wrinkled his nose, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “It’s a bit much. You’re much more handsome when people can make out the shape of your face,”‌ he supplied, stroking his hand down the length of it to cement how long it had gotten. “I‌ mean… Dude, if you caught me with a beard _this_ long you’d be chasing my ass down with a lawnmower.”

Jensen rolled his eyes. “It’s not _that_ long.”

“That’s what she said.”‌

Snorting, Jensen opted to bat Jared’s hand away, determined to fall back into their normal routine somehow. He caught himself before he said _I doubt you’ve ever heard that,_ swallowing the words down and scoffing instead. “Yeah, yeah. Good one, Jayby,”‌ he replied, stepped out of Jared’s grip and strode off to his room, throwing on a t-shirt and some sweats as Jared stood in the doorway. “Did you close the door?”

“No, I left it wide open for all the thieves to ransack your house. I’ve just been waiting for the right moment. Took you long enough to get back,” Jared drawled, sarcasm thick in his voice. Jensen whirled on him with a put-upon look of displeasure, which Jared grinned at. “Relax, Redbeard, no one’s gonna be stealing your collection of Matt Bomer’s underwear.”

“I‌ knew it was a mistake to tell you the code to my safe,” Jensen joked, smiling despite himself.‌ “You leave my Jockmatts alone.”

Jared _gagged_ on nothing. “They’re all yours, buddy.”

“Hey, I‌ paid good money for those,”‌ Jensen piled on, crossing his arms indignantly. “The least you could do is show them the respect they deserve.”

“I’m sure what you do with them is the furthest thing from respect,”‌‌ Jared shot back, making a face moments later like he deeply regretted it. “Let’s move on to something else. ”

Jensen nodded, sighing as he stalked over to his ensuite. He kept the door open while he picked up his electric razor and got to work trimming his beard. Jared chatted to him about everything and nothing at the door, adding his two cents about how much he should take off at points. There was something so natural about the scene unfolding between them that Jensen couldn’t put his finger on, but he was going to enjoy it while it lasted, shooting Jared sidelong glares in the mirror when he compared him to the male Ariel, aptly named Artimus.

When he was down to an even grade two, Jensen smoothed a hand over his face, cupped water in his palms and rinsed the stray hairs off. Jared failed to convince him that he had missed spots, poking his cheek here and there, and Jensen did his best not to lean into the touch, meagre as it was.

“There’s the handsome man I’m used to seeing,” Jared commented after an appreciative whistle, smiling at him from the doorway when he turned around. He was momentarily struck by how stunning Jared was again, knees almost giving out on him if not for his commitment to keeping himself upright.

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. I’ll be back to being a homing beacon for the local birds before you know it.”

They moved to Jensen’s kitchen, the conversation flowing smoothly like it always did when they were together like that. Jensen was keeping one ear ready to take it in those fateful words that consisted of Jared telling him that he had put up the act for as long as could, and that it was time for him to walk away with the hope that he would never see his face again.

He kept on waiting for the other shoe to drop, analysing every smile, grin, smirk, coy wink that came from Jared, picking through them to find the concealed truth. There was nothing there. Nothing but genuine affection for Jensen as Jared insisted that he sit down while he made them something to eat, claiming that Jensen had been Bear Gryllsing it on that island long enough and he could do with a decent meal.

Jensen had questioned if Jared was mocking his cooking skills, and Jared pretended not to hear anything he had said, gently nudging him back down with a hand on his shoulder and a playfully stern look on his face.

The image stirred up thoughts in Jensen of him tired as all Hell after work on a day when it was his turn to cook, and that was how Jared would have handled the situation, walking over Jensen’s protests that he could still handle dinner, shushing him with a warm, fleeting kiss that silenced him for several beats, relaxing into the chair without further complaint.

“I don’t know how many of my texts you read–” _All of them–“_ But I’ve actually been taking some cooking classes. I mean, if I’m gonna be the perfect housewife someday, ‌I need to be able to handle more than just microwaveables.”

“In this day and age, you don’t need to be anyone’s housewife,” Jensen dismissed with a roll of his eyes. “You gonna wear a frilly apron to complete the ensemble, too?”‌

Jared threw a wink over his shoulder and wiggled his butt. Jensen desperately avoided staring at it. “Nah, I was thinking either that one with the hunky man body on it or _kiss the cook,_ ”‌ he told him, cracking an egg on the side of the pan. “Y’know, something sexy.”

Mouth going dry at the fantasy of Jared naked and wearing the _kiss the cook_ apron, Jensen waved off his last sentence and steered the conversation to a safer topic.

They talked all the way through Jared pottering around his kitchen fixing something up, setting the table, unscrewing the caps off a couple of beers, clinking their glasses, between mouthfuls of food… Jensen was hit with just how much he had missed it, eyes unable to leave Jared’s face as it opened on an amused grin, regaling Jensen with a story about a friend of his from work locking themselves in their bathroom.

It wasn’t until Jensen was loading the dishwater that Jared’s tone took on a more serious note, and Jensen’s stomach plummeted faster than the stock market during the great depression.

“ _Jen…_ Can we talk about–about why you left?”‌

Again, Jensen had a choice to make. Would Jared have let him breeze over it? Perhaps if he changed the subject they could have gone back to pretending the past month was nothing but a bad dream. Let it sit where it was, behind them. Lost but not forgotten, but _not_ spoken about. They could have pretended that it was equivalent to the use of _he who shall not be named,_ swept it under that tacky rug in their Aunt Judie's conservatory and moved on to newer and better things.

All it took was one look and Jared’s firm resolve was made clear to Jensen that he felt as though it was something that was worth discussing. As established, Jensen wasn’t in the business of denying Jared whatever it was that he wanted, so he knew that they were going to have that conversation whether he liked it or not from the word go.

That didn’t stop him from wanting to stall, to go back in time and never open up his door–drown out the sound of Jared’s desperate knocking with his fingers in his ears and a pillow under his head, like a child locked away in their room in an effort to escape the raised voices of their parents.

Or, better yet, wound back to the day of Jared’s eighteenth birthday and stopped himself from ever jokingly suggesting that he would have sucked Jared’s dick, the catalyst that set all of those events that followed into motion. If he had never said that asinine string of words, Jared wouldn’t have honed in on it. If he had said nothing, Jared wouldn’t have drunkenly requested a repeat back at his house, promising to follow all of his guidelines. And he never would have offered up his body for Jensen to use and bend to his leisure. The thought to present himself as a tempting distraction–a stress relief, would never have crossed Jared’s mind, and they wouldn’t have been about to have the conversation that they were about to have had.

Jensen felt the pounding of his heart in his ears and throat, lips longing for a strip of moisture to stop them from cracking, but Jensen wasn’t sure he had it within him, throat drying up as he turned towards the sink after propping the dishwasher closed with the ball of his foot, fingers curling under the countertop and shoulders flirting with the tips of his ears, head bowing over.

A hand touched his back then, lingering, waiting to be brushed off. The pressure increased when he did nothing to reject it, flicking the tap on for something to do, eyes tracking the swirling of the clear water down the plughole.

Jared spoke up behind him again, thumb stroking his left shoulderblade periodically. “I‌ know it was about me this time. I know… I‌ know you felt _guilty–”_

“Jared,”‌ Jensen started, not looking at him. “We can have this conversation, but the _second–”_ he paused, shoulders suddenly squared and jaw straining as he whirled around, Jared’s hand slipping off unaware. “The _second_ you make out like this is somehow _your_ fault, _this_ is over, are we clear?”

For a long while, Jared’s face struggled to settle on anything concrete. His eyebrows furrowed and relaxed, lips setting and then parting as if to speak words before sealing shut again, nose wrinkling and smoothing out in the span of three seconds. Jensen could tell that there was indecision directed towards his proposal, and he wasn’t sure how he would handle it if Jared decided to go against him.

And he did.

“No,”‌ Jared replied, squaring his shoulders to match Jensen. “You have got to stop acting like everything wrong in the world is on you. I’m allowed to get things wrong, to fuck up, to make mistakes and accidentally hurt the people that ‌I love.” Jared took a step forward then, having noticed Jensen gearing up to refute everything he had just said, a hand landing on his tense shoulder stilling his words. “I know you’re just trying to protect me, and I‌ _appreciate it,_ man, I really do… But whether or not you can bring yourself to see it, I’m not actually perfect.”

Jensen _wholeheartedly_ disagreed, head shaking before he had the chance to voice his displeasure at Jared’s self-deprecation. He clenched his fists at his sides and ground his teeth together, willing down his natural, staggering need to instil within Jared that there was no other thing on the planet that stood an ounce of a chance at achieving perfection in the way he so effortlessly did.

It took a minute for him to come to terms with the paradigm shift, but Jensen adjusted well, eventually nodded his head instead of verbally acquiescing since he didn’t trust his voice at that moment.

“Thank you,”‌ Jared said, face softening. He gestured with his head for them to move somewhere more comfortable, and Jensen tagged along, taking the seat next to Jared on his couch, absently wondering if he would have felt better having that conversation on Jared’s.

Jensen twiddled his thumbs in his lap, focusing on a spot on the carpet. He could sense Jared next to him, eyes boring into the side of his head, probably searching for the answers to his own questions there, as if he could see through the wall of skin, membrane, bone and everything else in between, determined to extract nothing but the truth.

He wanted to open up to Jared, to tell him his fear. The fear that once Jared knew the truth, he would have abandoned him on his couch. It was stupid to think that way. Jared wasn’t that type of person, too nice for his own good, too supportive to fathom that that wasn’t what Jensen wanted. On the one hand, it terrified him that Jared was more than willing to offer himself as a prize to appease the beast within him. On the other, the rush that propelled through him at the memory of those knees hitting the floor at his feet and crawling over to him was far too powerful to leave wanting.

“I’m sure I’ve told you this before, Jen, but I could never hate you. Not for anything. Even if you came to me with a basket full of cut-up kittens, as much as I would‌ want to throw up everything in my stomach and then some, I would get you more kittens if that is what would make you happy.”

Jensen swung his head around at the analogy, wondering where on Earth he dredged up an idea like that. Jared’s face said that he wasn’t sold on his approach either, scratching a nail across his cheek and looking like he just saw their Mamma naked.

“Kittens? Jared, no one fucks with cats,” Jensen reminded him, trying to lighten the mood.

“So you watched that documentary, too? That fucking asshole deserved way more than he got,” Jared almost spat, hands angrily gesticulating and acting out strangling that dickbag. “My point is–I’m like the Mom in that documentary, except I’d know that you were guilty and I’d still do everything I could to protect you.”

Jensen sighed, shoulders drooping, but not in relief. “Unless I was a cold-hearted son of a bitch, I wouldn’t want anyone to vouch for me if it wasn’t true. Least of all you, Jay,” he told him, and Jared must have realized how serious he was due to his use of _Jay,_ not _Jaybe or Jayby,_ his most common go-to's.

“Doesn’t matter.‌ I’d _never_ let them take you away from me,”‌‌‌ Jared declared, one giant hand landing on Jensen’s knee and squeezing. “They would have to pry you out of my cold, dead hands.”‌

“All right, Antony Hopkins, simmer down.” Jensen patted the hand atop his knee, once. “Luckily for both of us, I’m not, in fact, a cat killer, so let’s just move on past that, yeah?”

Jared nodded, cheeks tinted with a light flush that Jensen wanted to kiss every strip of.‌ “Yeah… So, my point is–”

“Don’t run with scissors?” Jensen cut in, snickering. Jared poked his side playfully. “Sorry, sorry. Go on.”‌

“My point is that I’m not mad. I’m not… upset with what happened that night, other than your panic attack which I’m still having nightmares about,”‌‌‌ he started, and Jensen’s head throbbed miserably at the admission. That piece of information was _not_ in the texts. “It’s okay now…‌You’re home,” Jared added quickly, putting an arm over Jensen’s shoulders and pulling him against his side. Jensen went willingly, feeling as though he needed the comfort, and maybe Jared did as well. “The truth is, dude, I‌… really liked it.”‌

“I know,”‌ Jensen breathed, resting his head against Jared’s grounding shoulder. “I‌ never should have treated you that way, and I want you to know that I wish it never happened, that I–”

“I don’t,”‌ Jared interrupted smoothly, rubbing Jensen’s furthest arm. “I‌ don’t regret it at all. It felt good, so why should it matter?”

Jensen peeled out of his hold then and locked eyes with Jared. “You’re saying you _liked_ the spitting and the being a fucking table?”

Jared’s whole skin looked like it was on fire, his voice strained. “I‌ mean… yeah… I don’t know why I liked it, but I’m sure you saw how fucking hard I was the whole time?” He looked away then, eyes sinking. “Does that make me disgusting?”

The speed at which Jensen cupped both of Jared’s cheeks and breathed out a harsh breath could have been a world record. “Don’t you _ever,_ and I mean _ever_ call yourself that. There’s nothing wrong with getting off on… whatever the name for that is, okay?” Jared smiled at him, then, eyes lighting up again and Jensen couldn’t help but mimic him. “We just need to get you a dominitrix to make all your kinky dreams come true,”‌ he said, trying for casual, when it may have come across as bitter and resentful.

Through the haze of annoyance at his own suggestion, Jensen thought he saw a complete lack of interest in Jared’ eyes with regards to that, but he dismissed it, letting his hands drop from Jared’s face and scratching an itch on his arm.

“Yeah… Maybe,” Jared replied a tad too late. “I guess you’d have to train me so that I don’t make a fool of myself in front of her,”‌ he suggested with a flirtatious wink that provoked Jensen’s cock to spring like a diving board. And then Jared’s face fell a bit as he watched him. “There I go ruining the moment again… I’m sorry, dude, I don’t mean to be an ass.”

Jensen shook his head in the negative, biting the inside of his cheek. “Don’t worry. You’ve done nothin’.” The atmosphere seemed to grow tenser then with the two of them staring at each other, both wading through deep water to find what they were looking for buried beneath the stubborn seaweed. “I’m sorry I ran.”

A look of surprise ghosted over Jared’s face before he could stop it from the way he grasped for his composure like it was a lifeline. It seemed as though he wasn’t expecting Jensen to come back to that on his own, that he would have had to prod at him until he eventually caved and spilt his guts all over the floor. While he had said something to that effect earlier, it hadn’t been with the same conviction that he was putting across now, though his eyes had still been unable to meet with Jared’s while he said it–that part hadn’t changed.

“I was… I‌ was scared that you would never wanna speak to me again… That you would realize how—” Strong arms enveloped him, cutting off his words as Jared’s nose pressed on his crown, a gentle kiss warming his body. “I couldn’t _bear_ the thought of losing you, Jared… I just–at least if I wasn’t there to see you turn your back, it wouldn't have hurt as much.”

“You’re an idiot,” Jared said softly, tightening his hold and rubbing a hand up and down his back, giving him the privacy he needed to shed a few hot, salty tears. “You’re a fucking dumbass,”‌ he continued, a stutter in his voice that led Jensen to believe he was crying as well. “Tell me you don’t feel that way now… _Please.”_

Jensen wanted to. He wanted to assure Jared that he wasn’t having doubts, that he didn’t think he would have woken up any moment then and it would have all been one, long, emotional dream that would have meant he would have woken up feeling as though he had not slept at all. It would have been worth it to have heard those words, to have felt those arms holding onto him like he was precious, needed, loved.

But it would have been a lie, his unconscious fooling him into believing that he could have had his cake and eaten it, too. Jensen wasn’t that stupid, not enough to be fooled by such trickery. He would not delude himself, allowing that quiet voice that sounded suspiciously like hope to cling on to a string that had been severed long ago, left to curl and float on the breeze, never again reaching the half that would have made it whole again.

He couldn’t be that selfish. That was something that he had to believe, that there was a point where he got off at the next station, accepted that life wasn’t built in service of him and moved on to newer and sub-par things.

Jared needed him to be his friend, to be his confidant, his ally and have his back when he was about to fall, ready to catch him, bracing his knees to support his weight—like he had always done, like he always would have done regardless of how heavy Jared became. He could have reached well over double the weight of a healthy man of his height and size, and Jensen would still have been prepared to be crushed to death under his weight, if only to have cushioned his fall.

That was what mattered to him at the end of it all.‌ Jared’s happiness, his contentment, his peace of mind. And if Jensen telling Jared a white lie to make him feel better about the situation kept a smile on his face, then that was the only option.

So he did tell him that. He told him that he was fine, that he wasn’t dreading the second Jared left his house for the night and he went back to tossing and turning on his bed, working through the thoughts in his head and never quite knowing what he would plan to do next.

It was a mystery. But at least Jared was happy. That was the main thing–that was the thing that would settle his nerves, if only marginally.

And so he told him.

===

A few months after their conversation, things had gone back to normal for the two of them. They talked on the phone just as much as they used to, despite how hard it was for Jensen to believe that Jared hadn’t cut him out of his life yet, constantly being the one to pick up the phone and call him, somehow knowing exactly when he was free to call.‌ Jensen had eyed some of his colleagues surreptitiously, trying to figure out if Jared had _spies,_ of sorts, checking up on him.

At least two times a week they met up for coffee, dinner, a movie, a bar to watch the game and drink the night away. It was nice getting to spend so much time with Jared. The hard part was leaving him at the end of the night, sometimes finding a random, willing body to fuck the pain away, but never actually getting the job done. Knowing that they’re not Jared was enough for it to even be a bit of struggle to rise to the occasion. He managed to do it–he wasn’t that old, _yet,_ but it was by no means hard to the bone.

Just like before, Jared never failed to make time for him, actively cancelling hangouts with his friends when Jensen wanted to blow off some steam after a rough day at work. Jensen would insist that he didn’t need to do that for him, that he could have found some other company, but Jared was adamant that no one was allowed to take his place unless it was absolutely necessary, which he was more than determined to make sure never happened. Jensen would just smile at his antics, stomach swooping and body heating up while his face ached from the stretch of lips over his teeth.

It all seemed far too easy, too undeserved, really. Jared greeted him with hugs, patiently listened to the troubles of his day with a fully engaged look on his face, not even distracted by the sounds of car alarms blaring on the outside of the small cafe they went to the other week. Jared had stayed the course, eyes locked on his, head periodically nodding to show that he was listening to him.

The question as to why Jared was still being so supportive was lost on Jensen. He didn’t know what to make of any of it, attempting to limit their chats and time spent together. Jared didn’t accept that for a millisecond, waving off all of his attempts to cut the evening short or reschedule their meet-ups. At one point, Jensen faked a haggard cough, and Jared was outside his door in the next half an hour, fussing over him until he decided to let the fake cough drop. Which… took a while, since… he was enjoying being pampered.

Yes, he hated himself, too.

Things were looking up for their relationship.‌ He was comfortable with where they had gotten to, that there wasn’t any strain from the previous events and they were happy in each other’s company. It was nice, natural, right–even, and Jensen did his absolute best not to sully it with thoughts of Jared in increasingly compromising positions. It was a struggle. Stepbrother or not, Jared was a stunningly beautiful man with unfairly attractive features that ticked all of Jensen’s boxes, so it was difficult. He made it work, somehow.

But then Jared turned up on his door with a couple of suitcases and a sheepish smile on his face, asking if it was okay to move in with him.

“What, uh, what happened to your apartment?”‌ Jensen cleared his throat, crossed his arms over his chest and widened his stance. “If you’re struggling to pay the rent, I’ll help you out, man.” It would be better than letting him move in. Jared’s enough of a temptation several kilometres away.

Jared smoothed a hand through his hair and pursed his lips.‌ “I got into an argument with the landlady and she’s not happy with me.”

Jensen frowned. “What? She can’t kick you out of your apartment because she doesn’t think you’re God’s gift to the universe–” Which he was, but that wasn’t the point–“Let me get my keys and I’ll go have a word with her–”

“No!”‌ Jared jumped in a little too quickly, hesitating for half a beat before placing both hands on Jensen’s shoulders. “I’ve been looking for a new place, Jen… I just don’t like living there.”‌

“Why?”

Jared worried his bottom lip. “There have been a couple of attacks lately. I’m a little nervous to be there.”‌ Jensen frowned harder, line turning angry and Jared back-peddled. “I didn’t tell you because I‌ didn’t want you to worry, but the last attack was so brutal that the guy got put in the I.C.U.”

“Get… your ass… in here… right now,”‌ Jensen demanded, making a sweeping motion with his hands for Jared to do just that. He slammed the door and snatched one of Jared’s suitcases. “You should have told me about this sooner,” he snapped, his anger coming from a place of anxiety and not a personal afront on Jared.

“I’m sorry,‌” Jared replied, genuine. “I didn’t wanna risk you doing anything stupid and getting yourself hurt.”

“So it would have been fine if _you_ had been the one to get hurt instead?”‌ Jensen dumped Jared’s suitcase in his bedroom and closed in on him. “We don’t keep things from each other. Not us. Not you and me,‌ Jaybe,” Jensen said, desperation thick in his voice. “Especially not something like this.”‌

Jared shot him a mildly incredulous look. “I mean, dude… You did a pretty decent job keeping your whole Christian Grey persona under wraps,”‌ he reminded him, a cocky smirk on his face then. “All those times we watched films with dudes tied to the bed, and you were probably getting off on it.”

Okay. Fair point. He had been getting off on it. But that was different. Far different to keeping potential dangerous situations from him. Besides which, he hadn’t even _understood_ his attraction to that back then.

“That’s different,”‌ he dismissed with a click of his tongue.‌ “That’s two consenting adults who have an agreement as to what they can and cannot handle. People being _attacked_ around where you live is neither of those things, and I cannot _believe_ that you didn’t tell me this. You know I would have dragged your ass out of there faster than–”

“Exactly,” Jared cut him off, moving to his kitchen to start making coffee. “I didn’t wanna be a burden to you.”

Jensen scoffed at that, lightly punching Jared on the arm. “Nonsense. I‌ love having deadweight stinking up my house.” Jared jabbed him right back and they both laughed, a slight pause as Jared filtered the coffee beans. “I‌ mean that, dude.”

“I‌ know,”‌ Jared agreed with a smile. “Mamma and Pappa said the same thing, but I’ve mooched off them practically my whole life, so I thought it made sense to pass the baton to you.”‌

“They called you dead weight?”‌ Jared rolled his eyes and hip-checked him. “Well they’re not wrong. About that and you not being a burden. In fact, they sound like real smart people for saying so.”

“I‌ get it. Y’all love me, ” Jared replied, a fondness to his voice. “So what do I have to do to pay my way around here? Naked house cleaning?” Fortunately, Jensen was appraising the dirty dishes on the draining board from last night and therefore had a distraction to tend to while desperately willing away the chubby Jared’s joke elicited.

“I already have someone for that, and he’s way hotter than you,”‌ Jensen lied, hip-checking Jared back to get to the dishwasher. “He comes on Wednesdays. Don’t tip him. _I’ll_ take care of the tip,”‌ he added with a leer, keeping up the pretence that that was a thing that actually happened.

Jared laughed aloud, took the coffee off the burner and searched a cupboard for two mugs. “Justin wishes he looked this good in his birthday suit,” he corrected, made a show of running his hands down his body, and Jensen busied himself with loudly loading cutlery into their designated rack, wondering not for the first time why they still bantered that way.

“Actually, his name is Mario, but you keep telling yourself that, Jayby.”

They went back and forth for a while after that, Jensen discreetly keeping his hard-on hidden, planning to take care of it in the shower later when he was alone. He wasn’t sure what kind of alone time he was going to have to himself now that Jared was there, which he was secretly excited about if he looked past the trepidation that he may do something to screw it all up. And that led him to ponder on what he would do if he had company over–or worse, if Jared had company over.

Jensen knew that walking in on Jared and some random girl didn’t sit right in his stomach. It made him feel all kinds of sick, aching from the tension that the thought alone brought on. That wasn’t something that he ever wanted to witness in his entire lifetime. He would rather have his balls ripped off his body than experience one second of Jared making out with another human being. Or Dog. Or inanimate object. Jensen’s jealousy had no limits.

What would he be able to do, though? Tell Jared that he wasn’t allowed to do that in his house?‌ That wasn’t even his problem with it–it being his house, he meant. Jared taking off with them back to their place would have been equally unsatisfying, leaving Jensen cold and itching for something to put his first through. He would have let them go, though. Of course he would. Can’t deny Jared shit, that’s just how it worked. 

As far as he was concerned, his home was Jared’s home from then until he had no use for it, but he had no reservations that seeing Jared shacking up with someone else under his roof or otherwise would have rattled him…

He saw flashes of it settle on his mind as he darted his eyes to the couch, seeing an unknown face crawling into Jared’s lap and pressing their lips against his, small, petit hands curling into his hair and tugging on it as they caught his bottom lip between their teeth, whispering between melding of lips what she was going to do to him.

Jensen gritted his teeth as rage enveloped him, valiantly working to keep it off his face as Jared gave him more details about the _attacks,_ which wasn’t helping with his rage problem at all, thinking that Jared could have been one of the victims, bleeding out on the side of the road with no one there to lift a finger to help him.

For now, he choked down his boiling anger at those thoughts and focused on Jared’s words, resolving to let it be until it actually came up in conversation, which would be the appropriate time to deal with it.

“So it’s suspected that it’s some type of gang?” Jensen asked, frowning.

“Yeah.” Jared looked away, and Jensen wondered if he was thinking about the victims. He probably was. Heart of gold and a friendly giant had always been Jensen’s most commonly used descriptors for Jared. “Do you think they’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, man. With the right treatment, they’ll be fine. I’m just glad you’re safe, dude,”‌ Jensen replied, not the least bit sorry it was them instead of Jared. “How about we order pizza tonight?‌ My treat?”

The broad grin he got in response was definitely worth the anguished cry of his bank account already mourning the loss of that hard-earned money, knowing that Jared was a big boy with a big appetite, and by the time they had added everything to their basket, it would be sobbing uncontrollably.

===

Living with Jared was like sweet torture that left him strung out and wanting by the end of it, but still eager to experience the same thing all over again the next day.‌ Getting to wake up, walk to the kitchen and see Jared at _their_ table eating breakfast, a coffee already waiting on the side for him, never failed to bring a smile to his face. Even when he was grumpy and being a sourpuss, he managed to offer a small smile of gratitude, and Jared would pick up on him having woken up on the wrong side of the bed, intoning that he would steer clear of _Grackles_ for the next hour.

Jensen wasn’t surprised that living together came easily to the two of them. After all, they spent their younger years living at their parents' house. There had been some adjustments to make, of course. While Jensen had been more than willing to make dinner every night and do anything and everything around the house on top of working the hours that he had, Jared hadn’t stood for it, drawing up a plan for them to stick to. Jared cooked three times out of the week, and Jensen cooked the other three–they ordered something on Sunday as a treat to themselves.

It all flowed so smoothly. Jared dragged Jensen out of the house with him to go for their morning run. Jensen had been more of a late afternoon runner, but Jared insisted they go during the day so they didn’t have to feel guilty stuffing their faces for the rest of it. Jensen had gone along with it, albeit extremely begrudgingly, often giving Jared an icy glare when he pulled back the covers on his bed and slapped his leg a couple of times to stir him from sleep.

When they finished their run, they would grab a bite to eat at a local cafe until they had to start getting ready for work. They would give each other shit for spending too long in the shower, banging on the door just to be assholes, hurling heatless insults at each other while hiding fond grins. Jensen once resorted to flushing the toilet while Jared was in the shower so that he could hear his indignant cry. He regretted it when Jared decided to shut the water off and come out in nothing but a towel, Jensen being completely unprepared for the sight and almost creaming his underwear on the spot.

Needless to say, he hadn’t done it from that point onward. Couldn’t take the risk of being caught off guard like that again.

Jensen had to pinch himself more often than he cared to admit to see if it had all been one, huge, confusing dream, that he was somehow still on that island. Relief would flood through him when he reminded himself that he was very much awake, looking over at Jared on _their_ couch, which finally felt like home to Jensen, and seeing his face crack up at whatever was happening on the screen. Jared would be watching the TV and Jensen would be watching Jared, afraid that if he blinked it would all come to a crashing halt.

The doubt lingered, tainting every word that came out of his mouth, marring the supportive quips and motivational buffers that Jared gifted him with whenever he needed the pick me up. He didn’t want to think that Jared was harbouring ill feelings towards him anymore. He wanted to bask in the sunshine that was believing they were okay, that nothing was going to break them apart, that one day he would be convinced that Jared did, in fact, want him around.

He just wasn’t sure how long it would have taken.

Jared often got invited to events held by his colleagues. It would take a single glance from him to know that he was planning on _inviting_ Jensen to come with him, which meant he would have no choice in the matter, forced to mingle with all of Jared’s friends. And he would do it without a complaint. Because Jared would tell him that he didn’t want to go if he wasn’t there with him, which filled Jensen with a warmth that elevated his mood from start to finish, not even caring when alcohol spilt on his expensive shoes.

When he thought about it, he realized that they really hadn’t spent much time apart at all since Jared had moved in with him. The only time they seemed to actually be away from one another was when the other one was working. There hadn’t been a time when he had come home from work, and, provided Jared wasn’t working himself, not seen him somewhere in the house. Whether that had been playing on his console in the living room, reading a book at the kitchen table, getting dinner started, etc–Jared was always there.

The other thing that… didn’t _bother_ Jensen, just confused him, was that Jared had had _zero_ unwelcome company over. At all. Not even an awkward encounter in the doorway while he grabbed his coat or whatever. No one had come over, and Jared had not stayed overnight anywhere else, that he was aware of.

It certainly calmed the jealous monster within him to a low purr, but it struck Jensen with more than a few questions as to why Jared wasn’t out there getting any, when Jensen had been staying overnight at randomers houses several times a week. Being around Jared stirred his libido beyond measure, and he _needed_ to relieve some of the tension before he did something he would later regret for different reasons than the action itself.

He’d even gone back to the BDSM club, having figured that by that point it had been enough time for Landen to have gotten over him. He noticed while he was strapping a handsome, dark-haired man to a table that it didn’t seem to give him the same thrill as it used to, not even when he was sending little shocks through him via nipple clamps, something he had always enjoyed before.

Something told him that it wasn’t the man who bit down on his gag to keep from crying out as Jensen slowly inserted his gloved hand into his body that was failing to satisfy him. It was that he wasn’t the person he wanted to see drifting into that subspace, eyes glazed over, relinquishing himself to Jensen as he paddled his ass and tugged and released his hair, pulling the skin of his scalp up as he drew the paddle back and letting it dop when he brought it down on his ass.

Dolling out that type of pleasure-pain still excited him. Just… he wanted to take Jared to those heights and not some desperate nobody. But then, he was just as desperate for booking sessions four times a week to scratch the itch, wasn’t he?

Jared hadn’t brought up wanting to try out some things with some girl, acting as if he had never had those desires in the first place. Jensen had been tempted at one point to actually reveal to Jared that there was an array of extremely capable women at the club, but he stopped himself, the words stuck in his throat and burning the fleshy walls like acid through hard plastic, slower and yet ever more painful.

So he let it slide, deciding to say nothing on the matter, not wanting to risk Jared actually taking him up on his unspoken offer of picking out one of the women at the club for him to get his jollies from. If Jared had lost interest, that was his business, and far be it for Jensen to remind him of his confession about having liked it–which he _certainly_ didn’t think about daily, and it _definitely_ didn’t have him achingly hard every single time.

Who was he kidding, really? Jensen was never going to get over his attraction to Jared. His emotional attraction and physical attraction had their claws in too deep. Deep enough that Jensen felt the half-moons etched into his bones. It didn’t matter how many warm bodies he lost himself in. It didn’t matter how often he bent a random, attractive man to his will, held them at his mercy and forced his will on them. It didn’t matter how he begged and prayed internally for those feelings to drain out of him along with the bathwater on those days where a shower wasn’t cutting it.

None of it was going to stop his heart from pounding in his chest from the stretch of Jared’s lips on those smiles when Jensen came through the door. None of it was going to stop him from practically drooling when Jared bent over in front of him to tie his shoe-laces before they went running in the mornings. None of it was going to stop him from responding to friends while staring at Jared, who would have been waiting for him on the other side of the road… It was deeply sad, and it was deeply depressing, but Jensen was gone. Gone and gone some more, unable to even see a glimmer of light coming in through the cracks.

Jared had him under his spell, and there was no getting out of it. He wasn’t even convinced that he wanted to. Would it have been better to break free, spread his wings and fly off into the sunset?‌ _Sure_ , if anyone could have told him the sure-fire way to do that, he would have sent them on an all-expenses-paid trip to wherever it was their heart desired to go at the time. The truth was that it was a luxury to even ponder finding a way out, cutting the strings and waking up the next day without the shame of another wet dream lingering on his subconscious, groin sticky with dried come and bladder crying out to be emptied.

He had _no control_ over how he felt. No one caught his eye anymore, in any way other than for a quick, hard fuck that left at least one of them feeling satisfied, Jensen often slipping the condom off and throwing it in the bin with mild disgust lingering on his tongue. Jensen tried his hardest not to show it on his face, glad that they rarely ever protested facing away from him. It was only the ones that wanted to see his _gorgeous_ face that he had to convince to get on their front, telling them that he didn’t have to hold back if they were on all fours, which, more often than not, worked.

Somewhere down the line, he accepted that that was never going to change for him. He would go the rest of his life pining for that one person that he loved more than breathing, more than all of his loved ones combined and multiplied by infinity. He was besotted with Jared. Alcohol would have never touched the sides. The BDSM‌ club barely brought him lukewarm measures of satisfaction.

There had been offers from men he had gotten to know, wanting to give dating him a try, but Jensen hadn’t been able to even give them a single date. He immediately turned them down, the thought of doing anything intimate with anyone other than Jared triggering a swarm of hornets in his stomach that stung more than they buzzed. Jensen wasn’t about to add on any more ill-placed guilt or misery by starting something with another person.

Most of the things that they wanted to offer him, bar sex, he got from Jared anyway. They watched movies on the couch together, and Jared leant his head against his shoulder when he was feeling relaxed and sleepy. Jensen never shrugged him off. They ate at nice restaurants together, laughed the night away, drank together, watched the stars… There were so many things that Jensen did with Jared that were reminiscent of a relationship that with each new thing he added to the list, his friends grew more suspicious that there wasn’t anything going on between them.

He supposed he could see where they had been coming from if the shoe had been on the other foot. But then when they remembered who they were talking about, it didn’t take much for them to settle and rethink their judgement, ragging on Jensen about how much of a sap he was when it came to Jared.‌ They hadn’t been wrong about that either. Jensen was a proud sap where Jared was concerned, _internally_. Outwardly, he outright denied the accusation through his teeth, daring them to prattle on about it in front of him. They all knew, however, that Jensen treated Jared like the most precious of jewels, and God fucking help them if anyone so much as scratched the exterior.

A key turning in the lock pulled Jensen from his musings and he craned his neck around to meet Jared’s eyes as the door peeled open, Jared _stumbling_ through the crease and having a giggle to himself. Jensen managed to remain where he was sitting for all of four seconds, practically leaping out of his chair and dashing over to steady Jared.

“Dude, you’re wasted,” he chided fondly, steering Jared toward the kitchen, already planning to pour him a glass of water. “How much did you drink?”

“A lot,” Jared replied, a smile in his voice. “It was a good night. I’m not _that_ drunk, just a bit tired and giggly,” he explained, proving his point by standing to his full height and not falling on his ass. Jensen eyed him wearily for a few beats, deciding that he clearly didn’t need his help walking but he wasn’t going to let him go anyway. Better to be safe than sorry after all. “I would’a come back sooner if you’d’a come with me.”‌

Jensen rolled his eyes and went about getting a glass from the cupboard, Jared apparently deciding that a chair wasn’t good enough as he hugged Jensen’s side and breathed against his neck. Jensen willed the shudder daring to rip through him to back off, holding a glass under the tap to fill it as a distraction.

“I‌ had to get some shit done for work. You know how it is,”‌ Jensen reminded him, the warmth of Jared’s body pressing against his side making him tingly. He turned in his arms and pressed the glass to his chin, arching an eyebrow when he immediately didn’t grab for it. “You are such a baby when you’re drunk,”‌ he lightly scolded him, pressing the rim on his bottom lip and tipping it back when Jared parted his lips for it. “Good, now take that to the living room and sit your ass down. I’ll make you some food.”

“Yessir,” Jared agreed, snorting as he took off for the living room. Jensen listened out for the inevitable soft thump of Jared falling onto the couch while he looked around in the fridge for something quick and sobering to whip up. He decided that a bacon and egg sandwich would have done the trick, serving it up as soon as possible and joining Jared in the living room, who was sitting back against it with a pensive look on his face. When he noticed him approaching, he grinned like over-eager children on Christmas morning. “I knew there was a reason I kept you around.”

Jensen rolled his eyes and handed him the plate to take, which he did with a gracious smile. “You can’t keep someone around in their own house, jackass.‌ Don’t wolf that down because I will make you clean it up if you throw up,”‌ he warned, pinning him with a look before taking a seat next to him.

Jared did as he was told, eating the food in smaller bites than he normally would, chewing thoroughly and sipping from his glass of water once he had swallowed. Not watching Jared’s throat work was practically impossible, Jensen’s gaze locked on how it bobbed and dipped with each contraction. He licked his lips, entranced, brought back to that moment where he had almost had his cock in that mouth.

As soon as the thought came, he brutally shoved it back down, going over his exercises of imagining Chris in the most disgusting fantasies he could think of to prevent himself from pitching a tent. He’d taken to allowing himself to indulge his fantasies about Jared in the privacy of his bed or the shower, telling himself that it was okay because he wasn’t acting on it, that the more he revolted against himself, the harder they would push back anyway. At least that way, it was a compromise.

In the middle of fighting for his composure, Jensen hadn’t noticed that Jared had finished his food, and had just placed his hand over his crotch.

His whole body froze, heart pounding behind his ribcage and throat dryer than bone, toes curling and breath catching in his throat as Jared stroked his fingers over the bulge. Jensen’s cock throbbed in his pants, pulse quickening, chest heaving, blood boiling beneath the surface of his skin. He should have pushed Jared’s hand away, shoved him off of him or sprinted awkwardly for the door, but he felt like he couldn't even move–just stuck still with Jared’s giant hand closed over his crotch, teasing and massaging it so delicately, as if applying any more pressure would shatter Jensen–and the moment.

“I‌ never got to return the favor, y’know?”‌ Jared’s voice was barely a whisper. “I wanted to… Even after the first time, on my eighteenth birthday. I‌ wanted to make you feel good, Jen,”‌ he said, twisting around to meet Jensen’s startled/excited eyes. “I nearly got what I wanted the last time… Before…”

Jensen finally found his voice. “Jared, what are you doin’?”‌

“Am I‌ making you uncomfortable?” He suddenly looked three foot shorter. Jensen placed his hand over Jared’s and guided it off his crotch. “Why are you always pushing me away? I don’t get it, man.”

“You’re obviously drunker than we both thought, maybe you–”

“No,”‌ Jared cut him off, cupping the side of his face with his hand. “I’m not. I‌ just… I’m not as nervous to say it right now,” he said, determination in his eyes akin to that of a bull staring down the red cape. “I wanted to suck your cock before you even sucked mine.”‌

For a long minute, Jensen was certain that he was in the twilight zone, faced with a reality that couldn’t have possibly been true. He had accepted that Jared was supportive to the point of being unhealthy. He had accepted that that was the reason that he had offered himself to him all those months ago. That made sense to him. It was something that he would have offered himself in a heartbeat, and they had always been each other’s biggest cheerleaders.

He never anticipated Jared coming out and saying he had been wanting to suck him off, the words shifting his dick into a frenzy of twitching and throbbing, arching towards friction in an effort to find release or tear through Jensen’s pants. Whichever one came first.

Jensen was about to slide off the couch and back away, but suddenly Jared was sitting on his lap, cupping both sides of his face then, thumbs just below his ears as he breathed over Jensen’s lips.

“Jared, you don’t want this,” Jensen said weakly.

“Yes, I really fuckin’ do,”‌ Jared replied, allowing a bit of his weight to settle. “God, Jen… I’ve wanted it for so long–I just can’t take it anymore. Tell me to get off and I will, but please… If you want me, do something.”‌

“It’s not right.”

“I‌ don’t care,”‌ Jared whispered, lips millimetres away. “You’re not saying no. How long are you gonna deny us this, Jen? When I’m forty and married with two rugrats runnin’ around?”‌

Jensen turned his head into Jared’s right hand.‌ “I‌ knew I should’a stayed on that island.”‌

“If you had stayed any longer, I would have tortured your boss to get the location from him and I would have found my way to you.” The weight of Jared’s body settled fully on him then, and Jensen’s cock pulsed hard and true underneath Jared’s ass.‌ “Please… Do somethin’ before I lose my nerve.”‌

Without really knowing what he was going to do next, Jensen raised his hands up and settled them over Jared’s wrists, pulling them away from his face and laying them over his shoulders. Jared’s eyes held a question, tracking Jensen’s hand hovering under his chin and tilting his head down to lock their lips for a short exchange, his free hand curling around and up Jared’s back, fingers creasing the fabric.

He backed-off almost immediately, afraid he was daydreaming that whole time, that when he opened his eyes Jared wouldn’t have even have gotten back from his night out with his friends yet. Jensen would have just been alone on the couch, asleep.

Jared was still sat on his lap, waiting for him. Waiting for something, for anything. He looked almost fragile like that, lost for what to do next, waiting for Jensen to guide him. Jensen clenched his fist in the fabric and squeezed his eyes shut, jaw tightening as he debated with himself whether or not he could have that–whether or not he deserved to.

“Jensen… Did I get it all wrong?” Jared questioned, and he sounded so small.

Jensen knew that he couldn’t stand to be silent any longer.

“No. No, Jay… You didn’t get it wrong. I just… is this _really_ what you want?”‌ He had to be sure. He had to be completely sure that Jared wanted him, something that he was going to struggle to get used to, already planning to work on unpacking that later when he didn’t have to offer his full attention to Jared. “You have to be sure, Jared. You can get off me right now, walk away and I won’t hold it against you.”

Jared didn’t answer him with words.‌ He kissed him instead, hands sliding along his shoulders to curl around the back of his neck and up into his hair. Jared kissed him like he was starving for it, hips grinding down on Jensen’s lap, lips parting for Jensen’s tongue without the need for any coaxing.

Jensen was hit with all of the doubts that he had over the course of his life where his feelings for Jared were concerned, penetrating him from all angles, trying to cut through the haze of _want_ fogging up his mind’s eye.‌ He ducked his hands underneath Jared’s shirt, fingers crawling along the tepid flesh, each inch covered distancing him from the fear and anxiety reminding him how disgusting he was for wanting what was happening.

With every press against Jared’s flesh and stroke of his tongue, Jensen waged war on those negative feelings, allowing Jared’s positive reactions to the curls of his tongue, the siding of his nails down his back, the thrusts of his crotch against his ass, to solidify within him that he wasn’t the only one who wanted it–that Jared wasn’t just pretending for his benefit.

Jared moaned into the kiss, rolling his hips on Jensen’s lap, dragging an answering groan out of him as he tucked Jared’s bottom lip between his teeth and bit down, lathing over it with his tongue before thrusting back into Jared’s mouth, hands falling to the waistband of his jeans to tug him even closer, chest to chest, groin to navel–anywhere they could have touched, he wanted it.

The wet glide of Jared’s tongue told him that what they were doing was okay. The soft to hard press of his lips assured him that Jared wanted it just as much as he did. The taste of alcohol on his breath transmitting to him that he wasn’t altogether sober in that moment, which almost had him pausing, if not for Jared’s vigorous grinding and moans of encouragement, backing off to strip his shirt from his body and toss it over the couch.

Jensen marvelled at his chest and abs, biting his lip in approval as he craned his neck to swipe his tongue over Jared’s hard, right nipple, cock throbbing at the hiss it produced. He closed his mouth around it, circling his tongue in increments, breathing hot, moist air as he did so, drinking in the keening sound from Jared’s lips.

“Fuck… Jen.”‌ Jared ground down on him and then pressed his chest tighter against his lips. Jensen accepted it gratefully, bringing his left hand around to Jared’s front to tweak his other nipple, kissing and nipping the surrounding flesh reverently. “I want… I want you to fuck me.”‌

Jensen’s lips immediately stopped what they were doing, his body seizing up and cock pressing as hard as it could against its confines.

“Calm down, Jayby. We’ve got time for that,”‌ Jensen soothed, ignoring the accusations of betrayal from his cock. “I‌ wanna get to know you first. All of you.‌ For real this time,”‌ he admitted, grunting as he turned them and laid Jared flat on the couch, settling between his legs. “I still can’t believe this is happening.”

Jensen hadn’t realized he’d said the part out loud until Jared rose to a sitting position and pulled Jensen down on top of him. “Believe it. I do. I want this—I want you, and I don’t wanna go slow—”

“But I do,”‌ Jensen said, nosing along Jared’s jaw and nipping the flesh below his ear. “I wanna take it _real_ slow–” a trail of kisses down Jared’s neck–“Taste _all_ of you–” sucked the pulse point, hands inched along Jared’s sides–“Learn how you work, what makes you _tick,_ ” Jensen husked, chin stubble scraping Jared’s navel as he licked around the furled skin, hands tucking under Jared’s ass to pull their groins flush together, cock grinding over Jared’s bulge, frotting, pitching back up to meld their lips.

“What happened to Mr Grey?”‌

Jensen unbuttoned Jared’s jeans and pulled his zipper down while he worried the skin under his chin. “Oh, you’ll get to play with him some other time. Right now it’s just you and me.”

“At least he’d hurry the Hell up. He’d just tell me to get my ass naked, bend me the fuck over and get on with it,” Jared teased, lifting his hips to assist Jensen in removing the bottom half of his clothing, throwing them over the top of the couch with the other articles. He noticed Jared’s slightly annoyed look that he was still practically fully clothed and took pity on him, removing his shirt and kicking his pants off, using one hand to curl around both their hard cocks and slid them to together.

“Then maybe if you’re a good boy, you’ll get your wish next time,”‌ Jensen replied, grinning despite himself as he slicked the heads of their cocks with their combined precum, both their toes curling at the sensation. He thrust against him, planting one hand at the side of Jared’s head and dipping to claim his mouth once more, starting a slow slip-slide between deep, jaw-aching kisses that had them both panting when they parted, staring into each other’s eyes while Jensen rocked them together.

Getting to see Jared coming apart beneath him was like nothing else.‌ Sweeter than spun sugar, more seductive than Aphrodite herself. It burnt him up on the inside, heart on overdrive pumping charged liquid through his veins, skin slicking with obscene amounts of sweat. Jared’s hand grabbed for purchase on his back, fingers digging into the meat of his sides, breathing into his mouth and making pleased sounds with each press of Jensen’s cock against his own. Jensen didn’t care about the sweat, licking it off Jared’s neck as if it were the nectar of the divine, kissing up to his ear and releasing their cocks.

Jared groaned at the loss, thrusting up to connect their bodies again. A‌ laugh bubbled in Jensen’s throat before he could help himself, planting one foot on the floor as he kissed and licked his way down to Jared’s navel, hand sealing around the base of his cock, the jerk of Jared’s hips spurring him on to brush his lips whisper soft across to his side, spine curved awkwardly as he nibbled and drew the blood up. Jared released a keening whine, head writhing with each kiss and bite littering his side down to his hip bone.

Jensen wanted to cover every inch with his marks. But not today, thumb circling the tender flesh while he moved towards those thighs he’d often dreamt of spending hours biting and sucking, remembering how it had felt to sink his teeth into the meat the last time. Jared spread his legs out to accommodate him. Jensen’s mouth watered as he tucked his head into the bend, lazily jerking Jared’s cock as he nosed his groin and bit the skin to the side of his balls.

Every satisfied sound that whooshed through Jared’s lips had Jensen preening. He kept his cock away from the enticing call of the couch, begging to rut against it to relieve the pressure. It was _hard,_ no pun intended, angling his hips away from it as he sucked hungrily at Jared’s thigh meat, curling his fingers around the crown of Jared’s cock and stroking his thumb over the sensitive edge, Jared’s breaths coming out in a stuttering hiss.

Jensen hummed eagerly, pushing Jared’s leg further apart and licking a hot line over his seemingly aching balls. He cast his eyes up to see where Jared’s attention was, the darkness almost consuming the flecks of colours as he looked on with rapt attention, lips spit-slick, face glistening from sweat and warmth. Jensen couldn’t believe how stunning he was, keeping their eyes firmly locked as he sealed his lips over the wrinkled skin and suckled, not stopping until he had touched his lips to every part, heat shooting through him as Jared’s breath hitched, thighs and abs convulsing from Jensen’s minstrations.

When Jensen made to start a path along Jared’s cock, a hand pushed his head back. Jensen frowned at the dismissal, crawling up Jared’s body and quirking an inquisitive brow at him.

“It’s my turn to do that,”‌ Jared said with a tone that wasn’t looking for an argument. “Please?‌ I wasn’t kiddin’ when I said I’ve been wantin’ to do this for a long ass time,”‌ he added with a cheeky smile, pitching his head forward to seal their lips for the span of a tick.

“Sure thing, Jaybe. How do you want me?”

Jared didn’t use words. He simply slid out from under him and got on his knees, motioning with his head for Jensen to assume the appropriate position. Which he did, spreading his legs and throwing his arms over the back of the couch so that he would have something to grip onto.

Giant, warm hands smoothed over his thighs, curving up to his sides and climbing until the they reached his shoulders before sliding down his chest to his cock. Jensen shuddered as Jared breathed over the crown, the action alone enough to have it throbbing with want. It was Jared that was about to wrap his lips around him. It was Jared that was staring at his cock like a man possessed, curling his fingers around the base and testing the weight of it. Jensen couldn’t tear his eyes away even if he had wanted to, caught up in the heady atmosphere as Jared made a comment about how excited he was before taking him into his mouth for the first time.

Jensen nearly shot off the couch, but stopped himself, fisting it like a lifeline, bottom lip tucked between his teeth. Jared must have been paying attention the times that he had done that for him, long, nimble fingers tickling his balls and gently tugging the sack as he took more into his mouth.

Curses snapped off his tongue with a strain, ass wriggling on the couch, desperately trying to stay still to give Jared free reign. Jensen couldn’t have said that Jared’s skill was impeccable, lips a little too loose, slight scrapes of teeth, barely able to get half into his mouth, but he would still say it was the best blowjob of his life at that point in time. And Jared seemed to be loving that he could give that to him, bobbing and dipping with enthusiasm as he used a hand to jerk what he couldn’t reach, moaning around the thick mass like there was no place he would have rather been.

He pulled off briefly to say, “One day, I’m gonna get this whole thing in my mouth.” Jensen had raised a challenging eyebrow at him, hoping the _you can practise as many times as you want, dude_ was implied enough that he didn’t need to say anything.

Jensen arched a little off the couch when Jared gripped the base of his cock and slid his lips back torturously slowly. The cheeky shit had the nerve to wink up at him when he did it, looking far too smug with a cock in his mouth. Jensen filed it away for later when he was driving the train, tightening his hold on the couch and hissing out a breath.

Turned out Jared was a fast learner. Fantastic. Jensen cursed lowly as a wet sound pervaded the room, Jared’s pace quickening to toe-curling levels, Jensen’s body squirming from the effort. It felt incredible, the heat enveloping his cock, the fingers of one hand teasing his balls while the other one jerked the base. Jared was a man on a mission, sliding back and circling his tongue around Jensen’s crown with reverence, kissing the tip and laughing softly against it before he tapped it on his bottom lip.

Jensen’s mind pretty much shut down at the moment, a fat glob of pre-come pumping out of the slit of his cock. Jared lapped it up like a cat with its evening bowl of milk, sliding the flat of his tongue over the underside, which had Jensen’s teeth gritting and nostrils flaring, practically swallowing nails as Jared gagged around his cock, lips stretched tight and wanting. The image was burnt into his brain, stored in his special collection of erotic sights.

He wasn’t sure how much more he could take while remaining inactive. Normally, when he was receiving head, his hands were pushing their head down and keeping them flush with his groin until he pulled them back when he could see they needed air. But Jared was the one sucking his cock, and he wasn’t going to do anything to ruin his experience. Those are things they could try out later when they had gotten used to each other.

Jared remained animated the entire time he tended to Jensen’s cock, fingers never stopping their sweeps over Jensen’s balls, or jerks of his cock, matching the rise and fall of his head. He was covered in spittle when Jared pulled back off again, staring up at him proudly as Jensen panted for breath, hissing again as Jared brushed his cheek across the sensitive head, a devious look in his eye that had Jensen’s inner monster scratching the wall.

“Not bad for a first timer,”‌ Jensen said, working on evening his breaths. Jared licked his lips, a pleased grin stretching them as he rose up to kiss Jensen’s neck, tilting his head to the side for better access. He sucked the skin, _hard,_ and Jensen knew that it was going to bruise, a slightly pained sound vibrating his throat. Jared soothed it with an apologetic lick, but then proceeded to tilt his head the other way to mirror the bite. “Someone’s gettin’ territorial.”‌

Jared kissed a trail along his jaw and lathed over his bottom lip. “You’re not the only one that likes to leave their mark,” he said with barely contained heat, sucking mark after mark down Jensen’s neck to his collar bone, and he let him. He let him because it was Jared and he wanted people to know that he belonged to him–that they belonged to each other, letting out a low growl as he cupped both sides of Jared’s neck and added to the already darkening canvas.

“Fuck…” Jared reached for his cock and sealed his fingers around it, jerking furiously as Jensen kissed and bit his neck. Jensen braced his legs and pushed himself off the couch, Jared following him blindly, throwing his head back as Jensen licked over his Adam’s apple, kissing just under his chin before tentatively nudging him towards his bedroom, at first, and then aggressively walking them through the house when he didn’t get with the program. “There’s my bossy man.”

“Shut up,”‌ Jensen warned, but there was no heat to it, stopping outside his room to shove Jared against the wall and lick into his mouth, pitching onto his tip toes before Jared slid down a touch to accommodate him, moaning softly against his lips with each press and slide of his tongue.

Jared’s hand found the handle to his door and turned it, dragging him into the room with him with their mouths still locked. Apparently he didn’t want to be apart just as much as Jensen, hands falling to his ass to push them together, cock strapped between their bodies. Jensen mimicked him, breaking the kiss to groan against Jared’s neck when he spread Jared’s cheeks and brushed a finger over his hole, Jared’s entire body quivering from it.

“You’re gonna be the first man through those doors, Jen,” Jared teased, stroking his hands up Jensen’s sides and bending his head to worry his ear.

Jensen slapped both hands down on Jared’s ass then, voice deepening further. “I’m gonna be the _only_ man, Jay,”‌ he corrected, backing Jared up towards the bed and pushing him down onto it. He suddenly felt apprehensive, fingers twitching. “Are you… okay with that?”

Jared looked at him lik he was the dumbest thing to have ever existed, and he didn’t need words to know it was a stupid thing to suggest. He spent no more time thinking about it, getting one knee on the bed and nudging Jared to turn over onto his front.

“You’’ll like this,”‌ he said confidently, kneading Jared’s ass and dipping to kiss the small of his back. Jared arched up into it, flattening his arms at his sides and nuzzling into the sheets.

He parted Jared’s asscheeks, watching the furled hole flex around nothing, making Jensen’s mouth water. He lowered then, licking a trail from taint to hole and relishing the shudder. Jensen closed his mouth over Jared’s entrance, tongue sweeping back and forth softly, dragging out each stroke so that Jared felt the full impact of it, squirming beneath him and fisting the sheets. His ass pushed back against Jensen’s face, and Jensen couldn’t help but pull back to nip the flesh of his ass before sucking on the crease.

“Oh fuck,”‌ Jared moaned, ass wiggling and thrusting up.‌ Jensen palmed the cheeks, digging his fingers into the bouyant meat as he narrowed his tongue to a point at Jared’s asshole, waiting for it to give way to his tongue before thrusting it inside, still unable to believe that all of that was happening even as Jared voiced his pleasure and rolled his hips back onto his face. It all felt too surreal, spreading Jared’s cheeks wider, stopping to prompt Jared to hold one side open as he added a finger to the mix, carefully stroking the crease between beats.

He loved how responsive Jared was, his powerful body contracting and writhing on the bed as Jensen took him to pieces with his tongue and finger, swiping the wide flat of his tongue over and pressing his finger in just an inch to test Jared’s reaction. Jared complained that he coulnd’t believe Jensen really thought that after all of those years Jared hadn’t fucked himself with his fingers on more than one occasion, and hadn’t also used a fucking dildo.

Jensen’s mind fogged over for a while, stuck on the thought of Jared three fingers deep in his ass or bouncing up and down on a footlong dildo.‌ Then jealously spiked. “You won’t even remember having that toy when I’m done,‌” he promised, edging his finger in the slightest bit more and crooking it down, Jared’s ass clenching tight around his finger and his voice rumbled into the sheets.

“You talk a big game, but can you deliver on that?”‌ Jared replied, voice higher than normal as he wiggled his ass like a challenge. Jensen raised one eyebrow, pulled his finger out and rubbed the scruff of his chin over the crease. Jared keened and choked on his own words, hole twitching repeatedly as Jensen breathed on it, swirling the tip of his tongue around and widening his jaw to push his tongue past the tight ring, groaning at the way Jared flexed beautifully around the slick muscle.

“F–Fuck! All right, you win!”‌ Jared babbled, rolling his hips exaggeratedly, legs spreading wider and thighs shaking as he arched his back into the hard press in of Jensen’s tongue.

“Mmm. I could eat your ass all day, baby,”‌ Jensen said, and then walked back over what he just said. “Is it too soon for that?”

Jared craned his head around to stare at him over his shoulder. “To what?‌ Eat my ass all day? I wouldn’t complain,”‌ he replied, an adorable frown on his face as he thrust his ass back eagerly in invitation.

“I‌ knew you’d like that,”‌ Jensen confirmed smugly. “But I was talking about calling you baby…”‌

“Do you wanna call me baby?‌”‌ Jared questioned, eyes moving up as Jensen moved along his body to lay over him, one hand by his shoulder, the other pressing one finger into Jared’s ass, bearing down on his prostate. “Jesus… That’s so much better when you do it, you asshole,”‌ he whined, pitching his head forward for a long, searing kiss.‌

“I’ve pretty much always called you baby. Jayby. Baby. They’re not much different,”‌ Jensen pointed out, smiling as Jared’s ass squeezed around him and his breath stuttered. “What do you wanna call me?”

“Greg. No, maybe Brendan. He’s fun,”‌ Jared teased, giggling when Jensen nipped his ear and nosed his pulsepoint. “Well if it has to start with a J–”

“Watch it,”‌ Jensen cut him off with a roll of his hips, cockhead sliding along Jared’s left cheek, pre-come leaking out onto the heated skin. “You ever moan another man’s name with me and you won’t sit right for a week.”

“Ooo. Sexy. So I‌ can cry out Harriet or Jennifer, and it’s all good?”‌

Jensen answered him with a sharp stab of his finger that had Jared’s mouth hanging open on a strained cry. “Your options are:‌ God. Jensen. Sir. Master. Captain. Officer. And big Daddy,” he replied, and between each title he pushed on Jared’s prostate, eyes taking in the heated, debauched look on Jared’s face.

“B-Big Daddy?‌ Really?”‌

“No, not really,‌” Jensen answered, grunting as he wrenched his drawerer open and grabbed a bottle of lube and condoms. “What do you want me to call you?”

“Yoko Ono?”

Jensen rolled his eyes and snicked the cap, reached his hand down to squirt a good amount onto Jared’s crease. He dipped his fingers in it and got them all nice and slick before sliding one all the way in, leaning his body to one side, one leg draped over Jared’s, chin propped on his shoulder.

He pumped his finger in, kissing and licking Jared’s neck in intervals until Jared turned his head and brought their lips together. Jensen swallowed down every moan gratefully, pulling out his finger and pushing in a second, curling both over Jared’s prostate, body vibrating with glee when Jared broke the kiss to groan deep in his throat, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.

“I can tell you like to use your fingers when you jerk your big cock, baby,”‌ Jensen husked, fucking his fingers in deep and stretching Jared’s ass with each press in. “I wanna watch you open yourself up for me one day. I bet you look so fuckin’ sexy lying on your back, legs spread open and three fingers fucking your little hole.” Jared moaned, ass pushing back onto his fingers. “Or maybe you like to get on your knees, fuck your ass from behind.”

“Yeah, baby… Talk dirty to me,”‌ Jared half-joked, half-begged, biting his lip to stifle a rumbling groan. “I thought you liked your partners to be quiet.”

Jensen didn’t stop as he responded. “If I let you speak during those times… I would have lost control, and I couldn’t risk that,”‌ he said, kissing Jared softly afterward as if to apologise somehow. “I wanted to hear you. More than anything. You get that, right?”

Jared nodded, throwing one long arm around Jensen and rubbing his side. “I‌ know. Now can we stop talking and get back to having mind-blowing sex?”‌

“Well, when you put it like that,” Jensen said and released a relaxed laugh, pulling out his fingers and circling three at Jared’s furled hole, waiting for it to contract before narrowing them to a fine point and pressing. Jared seized up a little and then breathed through it, encouraging Jensen with a nip to his bottom lip.

“God, Jen, Sir, Master–whatever you are, I’m ready.”‌

There was a pause, Jensen studying Jared’s face and stretching his fingers out in Jared’s ass to test the give. Satisfied, he pulled them out, kissed Jared’s lips and rose up to roll him onto his back. “If you’ve taken dildos, then you should be used to this enough that by now you can take it on your back.”‌

“Yessir,”‌ Jared said keenly, tucking a pillow under himself and spreading his legs obscenely. “Well?‌ Come on. Lift your chin off the ground and get in all of this.”

Jensen coulnd’t help marveling the thick weight of Jared’s cock against his belly as he settled between his legs and pressed his crown at Jared’s thoroughly prepared entrance. That was it. That was the moment that they would be connected in the most intimate of ways for the first time, and it had felt so right to him. He pushed in far easier than he would have thought, balls pressing against Jared’s taint in mere seconds, the stretch of Jared’s neck a blatant invitation for him to swoop down and seal his lips over.

He did so, keeping himself fully seated in Jared’s ass for a full minute, kissing, biting, licking, sucking, grazing, nipping, mouthing Jared’s neck until he was a mess of loose words, mouth hanging open on gasps of pleasure as Jensen circled his hips and ground against him, stretching Jared out. He could feel his insides surrendering to him and he had never felt more content than at that moment, the knowledge that he was the first–and only–person to have Jared in that way making him thrum with satisfaction.

Jensen stayed stationary then, arching his neck to give Jared a chance to return the favour. Jared circled his arms around Jensen’s neck and locked his ankles at the small of his back, tipping Jensen’s head down to kiss him instead, sending a silent message that he wanted Jensen to start moving.

But he wasn’t ready yet. He wasn’t ready for the spell to end, urging Jard to lie flat. He braced on his knees and bent to keep the kiss going, tongues tangling, sliding, pressing back and tasting each other. Jensen wanted to stay like that forever, gently gyrating his hips while keeping up the constant rhythm of hard to soft presses of their lips, answering Jared’s pleasant moans with his own, becoming drunk off the scent of sex and desperation.

Jensen rocked them, finally breaking the kiss to watch the heated look in Jared’s eyes as he pulled his hips back until the head of his cock caught on Jared’s rim, pushing back in all the way in one fluid motion, a slave to the hypnotic parting of Jared’s lips and sweat beading on his brow as he moaned Jensen’s name.

It was an incredible sight to see, eyes darting down their bodies to witness his cock disappearing into Jared’s ass again and again. Heat licked along his back, Jared’s arms struggling to maintain their purchase on his neck. He dipped and tucked his head underneath Jared’s chin, pushing off the bed to fuck harder. It made the bed creak, but he tuned it out, focusing on Jared’s heavy breathing and seemingly endless moans, the short _ah, ah, ahs_ filling him with confidence as he pressed harder.

He rolled his hips when he bottomed out, pulled back halfway and then snapped them forward, breathing harshly on Jared’s shoulder. His heart hammered in his chest, blood pumping wildly to the beat of his thrusts, balls pounding Jared’s taint rigorously.

“Oh God–shit… Jen!‌”

Jensen reveled in the praise, snagging a strip of skin between his teeth as he felt his orgasm starting to tingle at the base of his cock, climbing up to the head as the clutch of Jared’s ass flexed around him.

“Jay… Are you close?”

Jared pushed his ass back against him and bit off a curse. “Yeah… Fuck–so fuckin’ close…”‌

Determination settled in his stomach then as he got a hand between them and curled his fingers around Jared’s hard, leaking cock, jerking it slowly as he fucked in. Jared writhed at the added stimulation, slick hands almost falling by the wayside. Jensen could tell that it was becoming all too much for him, the heavy weight in his hand throbbing and twitching like crazy as he dragged his cock over Jared’s prostate, fighting off his own orgasm.

He wanted Jared to come first. And he was going to make it happen.

“Come on, baby. I‌ need you to come. Drain that beautiful fuckin’ cock,”‌ Jensen encouraged him, raising his body up to stare down at Jared’s face. He slowed his thrusts as he pumped Jared’s cock, running his thumb over the head, keeping up a maddening pace that had Jared’s eyes rolling into the back of his head. “That’s it. That’s it, Jay. C‌ome on. Come. Come for me.”

“Fuck!”‌ Jared cursed long and loud, cock contracting in Jensen’s grip as it shot several ropes of come over Jared’s chest and abs, soiling Jensen’s hand completely. He stroked him through the rest of it, praising him as he pumped his hips slow and true, gritting his teeth when Jared’s hole closed around his cock.

Jensen was only able to fuck in a couple more times before he leant down to moan into Jared’s mouth, filling the condom with his release for what felt like forever.

The kiss broke immediately, neither of them able to hang on as they fought to control their breathing, Jared’s legs flopping down, arms collapsing just the same. Jensen could feel himself rising and falling from the expanding and deflating of Jared’s chest. He tucked his head into the crook of Jared’s shoulder, breaths stuttering as he angled his ass back to let his cock slip free, reaching a hand down to pull it off. He was too drained to tie it just yet, deciding to push it to the side somewhere for now.

“You broke me,”‌‌ Jared complained, but still wrapped his arms around him anyway and kissed his temple. “I am truly broken. Well done.”‌

“I aim to please,”‌ Jensen replied, not willing to leave for the rest of eternity.

A few minutes passed before Jared spoke again.

“So… Are you gonna tell me ‘never again’ this time, or what?”

Jared’s question made him stiffen. He hadn’t realized at the time how much of an impact those words had had on Jared. Being told that Jensen never wanted to do anything physical with him again after being bold enough to nudge them in the right direction must have been a huge blow for him.

If Jensen had known how Jared had felt, he never would have said those words, and maybe they would have gotten together and found a way to work it out. There was no way of finding out the truth, so he had to settle for the reality that was carved out for them.

The reality that he played a huge part in crafting. If he had been more open to the possibility that what he felt wasn’t unrequited, perhaps he could have avoided the years of heartbreak and turmoil that came with pining after someone you assumed you would never be able to have in that way, reaching for doors that you didn’t want to open to stathe off the hunger, distancing yourself from the one person that actually made you feel like you mattered.

It was hard. It was so hard to say no to Jared, to tell him that he couldn’t spend time with him, even when every muscle, every pint of blood in his body urged him to take the plunge and fuck the consequences. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He thought he was saving them both by putting up a wall.

A wall that never quite knew how to stay up, caving in and crumbling from just one look or inflected use of his name that made his knees give out and his heart stop. He was such a fool to ever think that he could hide away from Jared, convincing himself that it was the right thing to do, when it turned out that it was causing more pain than he had realized.

That was the most bitter pill for him to swallow, knowing that he had been the one to cause that hurt. That he practically crushed Jared’s spirit on his damn birthday, that he purposefully held off meeting him at that bar so that he wouldn’t have to spend time alone with him… Jared would have been stood there checking his watch, a huge grin on his face as he waited for Jensen to come through those doors…

Jensen would never forgive himself for that. He would never forgive himself from robbing them of all of that time that they could have already had together. He didn’t blame Jared, of course. He would never be able to blame Jared for anything. He was just doing the exact same thing that Jensen was, pretending that everything was okay, when it wasn’t.

From that point onward, though, Jensen made a wordless vow to himself that he would cherish every waking moment with‌ Jared, that he would make it his mission to see him smile every day. He would listen to anything that he had to say with open ears and a smile on his face, grateful to hear Jared speak at all. His words would be worshipped, remembered, loved by all measures.

Jensen would work hard to be everything that Jared wants, and never, _ever_ make him cry.

With his mind made up, Jensen lifted his head to lock eyes with Jared, one hand coming up to stroke his cheek. “No. I’m sorry.”‌

“Hey, I’m just messin’ with ya,” Jared said, probably recognizing the sadness in Jensen’s eyes and wanting to squash it. “I‌ understand why you said what you did, man. Honestly.”‌

“I‌ know… But we could have had… this… sooner.”

“That doesn't matter. What matters is that you’ve stopped being a grumpy sourpuss and claimed my ass. Quite spectacularly, I‌ might add.”

Jensen offered a weak laugh at that. “Yeah?”‌

Jared smiled brighter than the sun and kissed his lips. “Yeah. Now stop ruining my good mood and wrap that beast up for round two.”

That time, Jensen did laugh.

“Tell me this isn’t a dream,”‌ Jensen replied, hating how weak he sounded.

“It’s not. Otherwise you’d have washboard abs, be at least four foot taller and your name would be Ted,” Jared mocked him, looking so proud of himself.

Jensen couldn’t help but laugh and laugh until his stomach hurt, still chuckling against Jared’s neck as he calmed down.

“You know I love you, right?”

For a moment, Jared stiffened, and then immediately relaxed.

“You know I’m an ugly crier. Shut up,”‌ he groaned, slapping Jensen’s back playfully. “But I love you too, Jen.”‌

“That’s a mistake. Now you’re mine forever,”‌ Jensen teased, nipping Jared’s neck. “And forever is a long time.”

Jared turned his head and kissed the top of his head, then, and it felt like he was having a thousand different conversations with him at once at that one moment.

“Let’s make it count then.”‌

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done! 
> 
> Thanks for joining me on this ride. ^^
> 
> Take care. <3


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